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HERBERT    RANDOLPH    EMERGES    FROM    THE    CELLAR    IX    WHICH    HE    HAS    KEEN    KEPT 

A    PRISONER. 


THE  BOY  BROKER; 


AMONG    THE    KINGS    OF    WALL    STREET. 


BY 


FRANK   A.  MUNSEY. 


NEW    YORK  : 
FRANK  A.  MUNSEY  &  CO.,   PUBLISHERS,  81  WARREN  STREET. 

i  S  S  8. 


COPYRIGHT,  1888,  HV 
FRANK    A .    M U  X  S  E  Y 

[All  riglits  reserved.] 


PRESS  OK  FRRRIS  BROTHERS. 
32U  Pearl  Street,  N.  V. 


TO    MY    DEAR    FATHER, 

WHOSE    RIGID    NEW    ENGLAND    DISCIPLINE    SEEMED    TO    ME    AS    A    BOY    SEVERE    AND 

UNNECESSARY,   THIS    VOLUME    IS    AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED  WITH  THE 

GRATEFUL    ACKNOWLEDGMENT    THAT    HE    WAS    RIGHT  AND  THAT 

1  WAS  WRONG.       FOR  THIS  TRAINING  AND  FOR  ALL  ELSE 

I    OWE    HIM    I    CAN    PAY     THE    DEBT    BEST    BY 

LIVING   THE    LIFE   THAT    WILL 

PLEASE   HIM   MOST. 


PREFACE. 


The  best  story  for  boys  is  the  one  that  will  help  them  most 
and  give  them  the  greatest  pleasure — the  story  that  will  make 
them  more  manly,  more  self  reliant,  more  o-enerous,  more  no- 

'  O 

ble  and  sweeter  in  disposition.  Such  a  story  I  have  aimed  to 
make  THE  BOY  BROKER.  The  moral  or  lesson  it  contains  could 
be  put  into  a  very  short  lecture,  but  as  a  lecture  I  am  confident 
that  it  would  prove  valueless.  Boys  are  benefited  little  by 
advice.  They  seldom  listen  to  it  and  less  frequently  make  any 
practical  application  of  it.  Imitative  by  nature,  they  are  easily 
influenced  by  those  with  whom  they  associate,  and  no  associate, 
in  my  opinion,  has  so  strong  a  grasp  upon  them  as  the  hero  of 
some  much  prized  book.  He  becomes  a  real  being  to  their 
young,  healthy  imagination — their  ideal  of  manliness,  bravery, 
generosity,  and  nobility.  He  enters  into  their  lives,  their 
sports,  their  adventures,  their  kind  acts,  a  companion,  a  model 
so  much  idealized  and  admired  that  unconsciously  thev  sfrow 

J  s         O 

to  be  like  him  in  so  far  as  their  surroundings  will  permit.  In  a 
good  story  plot  and  action  are  but  the  setting  to  the  gem — the 
means  of  conveying  a  lesson  in  disguise  in  such  a  way  that  the 
reader  will  not  suspect  he  is  being  taught.  Let  it  once  occur 
to  him  that  he  is  reading  a  lecture  and  the  book  will  at  once 
be  quietly  but  most  effectually  packed  away.  Many  authors, 


PREFACE. 

it  seems  to  me,  fail  in  their  purpose  by  devoting  too  much  time 
to  the  gem  and  too  little  to  the  setting'.  Others  go  too  far  the 
other  way  and  write  stories  that  give  young  readers  a  wrong- 
idea  of  life — stories  whose  heroes  do  improbable  and  unnatural 
acts.  While  my  purpose  has  been  to  make  THE  BOY  BROKER 
interesting  I  have  aimed  to  give  a  true  idea  of  life  in  a  great 
city.  So  much  nonsense  of  a  misleading  character  has  been 
written  about  benevolent  old  gentlemen  who  help  poor  boys 
from  the  country  that  I  have  sought  to  turn  the  light  of  fact  on 
the  subject  and  picture  a  little  real  life — about  such  life  as  a 
boy  may  expect  to  find  if  he  comes  to  New  York  friendless  and 
alone.  He  might  find  it  much  worse  ;  he  could  not  wisely 
hope  to  find  it  better. 

FRANK  A.   MUNSEY. 
NEW  YORK,  September,    1888. 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Herbert  Randolph  emerges  from  the  cellar  in  njhicJi  lie 

lias  been  kept  a  prisoner,  .          .          .          Frontispiece. 

The  Great  City,          .......  Page    10 

"  You    evidently  know  all  about  propriety,  so  Jicrc  is 

my  /land,"  said  Herbert,           ....  13 

Herbert  Randolph  in  the  Post  Office,           .                    .  "       17 

Memories  of  country  life — The  greeting  by  the  way,  "       23 

TJic   benevolent  old  gentleman  presses    money  on  the 

country  boy,          .                    .          .          .          .  "       27 

The  country  boy  finds  a  well  filled  pocket  book,        .  "       29 

rriic  country  boy  to  tJic  resc7ie,    .....  31 

At  the  Boss  Tweed  Restaurant,     ....  "33 

A  Glimpse  of  Wall  Street, "35 

Herbert  Randolph  finds  himself  among  a  mob  of  rival 

applicants,       .......  37 


LIST    Ol-'   ILLL'STRATWXS. 

Gnnwagner  and  Felix  agree  upon  a  plan,          .          .     Page    48 

}  'oung  Randolph  handed  Ray  into  t/ie  carriage  with 
just  enough  embarrassment  in  his  manner  to  in 
terest  her,  51 

Bob  Hunter,  alone  in  his  room,  wonders  what  has  be 
come  of  /i is  new  friend,  .  .  .  .  .  "59 

Tom  Flanncry,           .                    .          .          .          .  "       64 

Bob  Hunter  speaks  up  for  Herbert,         .          .          .  "71 

Bob  Hunter  plays  the  detective,           .          .          .          .  "77 

A  surprise  for  Felix  Mortimer,     .          .          .          .  "85 

Young  RandolpJi  at  last  falls  asleep  exhausted,            .  "       92 

Suddenly    realizing    Jiis    horrible  situation,  Herbert 
sprang  upon    the    bench     with  a  pitiful  cry  of 

terror,    .         .         .         .          .         .         .          .  "IDS 

Gunwagnc r  pursuing  the  boys,            .          .          .          .  "     111 

Gunwagner  bursts  into  the  room  in  a  furious  mood,  "     121 

Gunwagner  in  the  hands  of  the  police,       .          .          .  "130 

Young  Randolph    and   Bob  Hunter  confront    Felix 

Mortimer  and  charge  him  with  his  villainy,        .  "147 

"  Tom"  said  Bob,  "  herd s  a  five  for  you"      .         .  "     155 

The  great  banquet,     ,          .          .          ,          .          .          .  "163 


LIST    OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Dob  and  Tom  coming  out  of  the  bank,     .          .          .        Page  \  79 

Herbert' s  first  visit  to  the  banker  s  house,  .          .          .  "185 

"  }  on  embarrass  me"  said  Herbert,  blushing,           .  "     187 

Tom  Flannery  in  delirium,        .          .          .          .  "     194 

Young  Randolph    again    in    the    ranks   of  tJic  unem 
ployed,     ....                   ...  "     200 

Herbert  Randolph  shoveling  snow,      .          .          .  "     203 

Herbert  Randolph  working  on  the  Jioist,         .         .  "     206 

Tom  Flannery  s  deal { Jibed,          .          .          .          .          .  "216 

Tom  Flannery  s  funeral,        .          .          .          .          .  "221 

Ray  reading  to  Mrs.  Flannery,          .         .          .          .  "222 

Mrs.  Flannery  and  the  two  boys  in  their  new  home.  "     225 
Gunwagner  in  prison,        ......"    234 

Bob  Hunter,  the  student  and  young  business  man,  "     239 


THE    BOY    BROKER. 


CHAPTER    I. 

AN    INTRODUCTION    TO    THE    GREAT    CITY. 

IVE  me  the  best  morning  paper  you  have,  please." 

"  The  Tribune  costs  the  most,  if  that  is  the  one  you 
want." 

"The  price  will  be  no  objection  providing  the  paper  con 
tains  what  I  wish  to  find." 

"You  want  work,  I  s'pose." 

"Yes,  I  am  looking  for  employment." 

"  I  knew  it — juct  in  from  the  country  too,"  said  the  news 
boy,  comically.  "Well,  what  you  want  is  the  Herald  or 
World.  They  are  just  loaded  with  wants." 

"  Thank  you,  you  may  give  me  both." 

"  Both  !  Whew,  you  must  be  well  fixed  !  "  replied  the  young 
metropolitan,  handing  over  the  papers,  as  he  regarded  his  new 
customer  curiously. 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  asked  the  latter,  seriously. 

"  You  don't  know  what  well  fixed  means  ?  You  must  have 
come  from  way  back  !  Why  it  means — it  means  that  you're 
solid,  that  you've  got  the  stuff,  don't  you  see?" 

"  I'm  solid  enough  for  a  boy  of  my  age,  if  that  is  the  idea," 


1 2  THK  BO  Y  BROKER. 

replied  the  lad  from  the  country,  rather  sharply,  as  a  tinge  of 
color  rose  to  his  cheeks. 

"  Shucks  !  That  ain't  the  idea  at  all,"  said  the  street  boy, 
in  a  tone  that  seemed  apologetic.  "  What  I  mean  is  that 

you're  a  kind  of   boodle   alderman — you're  rich.      Do  you  see 

1 » 
now  f 

"  Oh  !  That's  it.  Well,  you  see,  I  didn't  know  what  you 
meant.  I  never  heard  those  terms  up  in  Vermont.  No  ;  I'm 
not  rich,  but  on  the  contrary  have  so  little  money  that  I  must 
commence  work  at  once." 

"  And  that  is  why  you  bought  two  papers,  so  you  can  take 
in  the  whole  business.  You've  got  a  big  head,  Vermont,  any 
way,  and  would  do  stunnin'  on  mornin'  papers." 

"Thank  you.      Do  you  mean  at  selling  them  ?" 

"  Yes,  of  course.  You  wouldn't  give  'em  away,  would 
you  ? " 

"  Well,  no,  I  should  not  be  inclined  to  do  so." 

"  That  sounds  more  like  it.  Perhaps  I'll  give  you  a  job,  if 
you  can't  find  anything  else." 

"  Thank  you,  I  may  be  very  glad  to  get  a  chance  to  sell 
papers  even." 

"'Tain't  a  bad  business  anyhow.  Me  and  lots  of  fellers 
makes  plenty  of  money  at  it.  But  I  s'pose  you're  hungry, 
hain't  you?  If  you  be  I'll  take  you  round  to  a  boss  place  and 
it  won't  cost  nothin'  hardly." 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  but  I  had  my  breakfast 
soon  after  leaving  the  boat." 

"  And  I  bet  they  clone  you  up  on  the  price.  I  tell  you 
what  it  is,  it  takes  a  fellow  a  good  while  to  learn  to  live  in  this 
city.  You  don't  know  nothin'  about  what  it  costs.  Why  I 
know  a  plenty  of  boys  that  spend  more — yes,  I'd  say  so,  twice 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


as  much  as  what  I  do, 
and  they  don't  throw  no 
style  into  their  livin' 
either.  You  see  they 
don't  know  how  and 
hain't  got  no  taste,  any 
way.  But  I  like  your 
looks,  Vermont,  and  ef 
you  want  any  points — 
and  you're  liable  to  want 
'em  in  this  city,  I'll  bet 
you — why  you  just  call 
on  me  and  I'll  fix  you 
out  in  big  shape." 


YOU    EVIDENTLY    KNOW    ALL   ABOUT   PROPRIETY,    SO    HERE    IS   MY    HAND,"    SAID    HERBERT. 


1 4  THE  BO  Y  BR OKER. 

"  Thank  you,  sincerely,"  said  the  Green  Mountain  lad,  a 
broad  smile  playing  over  his  fine  face,  as  he  regarded  the 
drollery  of  his  new  acquaintance.  "  I  shall  need  many  sugges 
tions,  no  doubt,  for  I  feel  almost  lost  in  this  great  city.  I  had 
no  idea  it  was  so  large.  I  was  never  here  before,  and  do  not 
know  where  to  go  for  a  room  or  meals." 

"  So  I  thought,  and  that's  why  I  offered  to  put  you  into 
the  right  track.  My  name  is  Bob  Hunter — I  hain't  got  no 
business  cards  yet,  but  all  the  boys  knows  me,  and  my  place 
of  business  is  right  round  here  in  City  Hall  Park.  You'll  find 
me  here  'most  any  time  durin'  business  hours." 

"  Bob  Hunter !  Well,  you  may  be  sure  I  shall  remember 
your  name  and  place  of  business,  for  I  want  to  see  you  again. 
But  what  are  your  business  hours  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  forgot  that.  Everybody  must  have  busi 
ness  hours,  of  course.  Well,  say  from  five  to  ten  in  the 
mornin',  and  three  to  eight  in  the  afternoon,  you  can  find  me  in." 

"  In  !     You  mean  out,  don't  you — out  here  ?" 

"  Shucks  !  don't  be  so  school  mastery.  Everybody  in  busi 
ness  says  in.  I  guess  I  know  what's  proper  !  " 

"  All  right,  Bob  Hunter,  I'll  give  it  up.  You  know  all 
about  propriety  in  New  York,  and  I  know  nothing  of  it,  so 
here  is  my  hand.  I'll  say  good  by  till  tonight,  when  I  will  call 
upon  you  again.  I  must  look  over  these  papers  now,  and  hunt 
for  a  situation." 

"  I  hope  you'll  have  luck,  and  get  a  bang  up  place.  I'll  be 
in  when  you  call  tonight ;  and  if  you  hain't  no  objections,  I'd 
like  to  know  your  name.  It  would  be  more  handy  to  do  busi 
ness,  you  see.  How  could  my  clerks  announce  you  so  I'd 
know  you,  if  I  don't  know  your  name?  You  see,  I  might  think 
it  was  some  one  that  wanted  to  collect  a  bill,"  continued  Bob. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  15 

dryly,  "and  I'd  be  out.  Don't  you  see  how  it's  done?  I'd 
just  tell  my  clerks  to  say  '  Mr.  Hunter  is  not  in  ;'  so,  you  see, 
you  would  get  left.  Why,  business  men  do  it  every  day  ! " 

"  My  name  is  Herbert  Randolph,"  replied  the  other,  laugh 
ing  heartily  at  his  comical  friend — !  say  friend,  for  he  already 
felt  convinced  that  he  had  found  one  in  Bob  Hunter. 

"Herbert  Randolph!  that's  a  tony  name — some  old  fellow 
I  read  about  in  school  was  called  Randolph  ;  most  likely  he 
was  some  of  your  relations." 

The  day  was  too  cold  for  him  to  remain  out  in  the  park  and 
read;  so  Herbert,  acting  on  the  advice  of  Bob  Hunter,  hurried 

O 

to  the  great  granite  post  office,  and  there,  in  the  rotunda,  ran 
his  eye  over  the  "wants"  in  his  two  papers. 

Many  columns  of  closely  printed  matter  in  each  paper  offer 
ing  every  conceivable  position  were  spread  out  before  him — a 
bewildering  display  of  flattering  prospects. 

Young  Randolph  soon  learned  that  if  he  stopped  to  read 
every  advertisement  in  both  journals  it  would  be  very  late  in 
the  day  before  he  could  apply  for  any  position.  But  should  he 
only  read  a  few  of  the  wants  he  might  fail  to  notice  the  best 
openings.  This  was  a  misfortune,  for  he  was  ambitious  to  get 
the  right  position — the  position  that  would  enable  him  to  ad 
vance  the  fastest  ;  and  like  all  inexperienced  boys,  he  hoped 
and  even  expected  he  might  get  it  the  very  first  time  trying. 

He  had  already  marked  a  dozen  or  two  advertised  situ 
ations  which,  it  seemed  to  him,  would  do  very  well,  in  fact  were 
quite  desirable,  but  of  course  they  were  the  high  priced  posi 
tions  which  would  naturally  be  most  sought  after  by  thousands 
of  other  applicants — rivals  whom  the  young  Vermonter  did  not 
take  into  consideration.  He  saw  before  him  a  demand  for  four 
or  five  thousand  people  to  help  move  the  wheels  of  commerce. 


1 6  THE  BO  Y  BR OKER. 

He  knew  of  course  that  he  could  only  accept  one  position,  so  he 
was  desirous  that  that  one  should  be  the  best. 

Any  smart  boy  would  feel  as  he  did  in  this  respect. 

Some  boys  would  even  be  so  thoughtful  of  the  interest  of 
others  as  to  feel  sad  that  the  four  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
ninety  nine  employers  should  be  deprived  of  their  services. 

But  young  Randolph  was  more  selfish.  He  had  come  here 
from  the  country  with  buoyant  hopes  and  splendid  courage. 
He  proposed  to  make  his  way  in  New  York — to  become  what 
is  known  as  a  successful  man,  to  make  a  name  for  himself — a 
name  that  would  extend  to  his  native  State  and  make  his 
parents  proud  of  their  brilliant  son. 

Feeling  thus,  how  natural  it  was  that  he  should   linger  over 

o  o> 

the  attractive  columns  much  longer  than  was  wise.  Yet  he  did 
not  think  of  this,  or  at  least  he  did  not  give  it  any  serious  con 
sideration,  for  were  there  not  a  vast  number  of  positions  to  be 
filled  ?  The  question  then  was  not  whether  he  could  get  any 
thing  to  do,  but  rather  which  one  he  should  accept.  When 
talking  with  young  Bob  Hunter,  the  newsboy,  he  had  intimated 
that  he  might  be  glad  even  to  get  a  chance  to  sell  papers  ;  but 
it  must  be  remembered  that  he  had  not  at  that  time  seen  a  New 
York  paper,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  tremendous  demand  for 
help. 

Such  a  proposition  from  Bob  now,  however,  would 
doubtless  have  been  scorned,  notwithstanding  Herbert's  usual 
good  sense.  And  such  scorn  would  have  been  very  natural 
under  the  circumstances.  Selling  papers  is  an  employment 
vastly  inferior  to  clerking,  to  book  keeping,  to  banking,  to 
writing  insurance  policies,  all  of  which  positions  were  now  open 
to  him,  as  he  supposed,  else  why  should  they  be  advertised  ? 
And  why  could  not  he  fill  them — any  one  of  them  ?  He  was 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


honest,  ambitious,  willing-  to  work  hard,  wrote  a  splendid  hand, 
had  had  some  experience  in  clerking  in  a  country  store,  and, 
best  of  all,  he  knew  he  would  be  faithful  to  his  employer — all 
excellent  qualifications 
in  a  general  way — quali 
fications  that  probably 
seemed  to  him  irresist 
ible.  Then,  too,  might 
he  not  lend  a  degree  of 
intelligence,  of  thought 
to  the  business  that 
would  be  helpful  ?  This 
was  a  point  that  did 
not  occur  to  him  at  first 
—not  till  his  mind  be 
came  inspired  with  the 
subject  ;  but  now  the 
idea  seemed  to  him  a 
good  one,  and  he  won 
dered  that  he  had  not 
thought  of  it  before.  At 
any  rate,  he  decided  not 
to  lose  si^ht  of  it  a^ain, 

O  o 

for  he  knew — his  com 
mon  sense  told  him,  and 
he  had  read  also,  that 
the  men  who  move 

things  in  this  world  are  men  of  brains — men  who  think,  who 
lend  ideas  to  business,  to  inventions,  to  anything  and  every 
thing  with  which  they  have  to  deal. 

Thus  another  complication  was  added,  for  now  he  must  con- 


HERBERT    RANDOLPH    IN    THE    POST    OFFICE. 


,8  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

sider  in  determining  if  the  position  he  accepted  would  give  him 
the  widest  scope  for  thought,  and  the  broadest  play  for  genius, 
ideas,  originality  and  enterprise.  His  imagination  ran  fast.  He 
was  dead  to  the  busy  scenes  about  him.  Great  questions 
pressed  home  upon  him  for  decision,  and  he  did  not  decide 
quickly  and  without  thought,  as  a  light  headed  boy  would  have 
done.  No,  he  pondered  long  and  hard  over  the  subject  which 
meant  so  much  to  him,  and  perhaps  to  the  entire  commerce  of 
the  city  and  even  the  finances  of  the  nation.  What  might  not 
grow  out  of  his  start  in  life — the  start  of  a  thoughtful,  indus 
trious,  original  man  ?  How  important,  then,  that  it  should  be 
a  right  start !  What  might  not  come  of  a  false  venture  ?  How 
the  possibilities  of  the  future  might  be  dwarfed  by  such  a  move  ! 

These  were  momentous  questions  for  this  young  ambitious 
boy  to  solve.  He  grappled  with  them  bravely,  and  with  flushed 
cheeks  and  dilated  eyes  knitted  his  brows  and  thought.  He 
thought  hard,  thought  as  one  with  the  responsibilities  of  a 
nation  resting  upon  him — this  young  untried,  untrained  boy 
from  old  Vermont. 

"No,  I  will  not  take  it,"  he  broke  out  suddenly  and  with 
striking  determination  in  his  face.  "  Simply  because  I  write  a 
good  hand  they  would  keep  me  writing  policies  all  the  time, 
and  then  I  believe  the  insurance  business  is  run  like  a  big  ma 
chine.  No,  I  do  not  want  it  and  will  not  take  it,  for  I  am  not 
going  to  make  a  mistake  this  time.  I  want  to  show  the  folks 
down  home  who  said  I  would  make  a  failure  here  that  they 
didn't  knoiu  me — they  counted  on  the  wrong  man.  No,  insur 
ance  is  good  enough  for  any  one  without  ambition  or  ideas, 
who  always  wants  to  be  a  clerk,  but  I'm  not  that  kind  of  a  man." 

He  was  actually  calling  himself  a  man  now. 

"  But  I  think  mercantile  business  or  manufacturing  or  banking 


THE  BO  Y  BR OKER.  1 9 

would  do  for  me  and  would  be  suited  to  me.  I  wonder  which 
is  the  best  !  Mercantile  business  gives  one  a  good  chance  to 
show  what  he  is  made  of.  A  man  with  ideas  ought  to  succeed 
in  it  ;  that  is,  if  he  is  pushing  and  has  plenty  of  originality.  A. 
T.  Stewart,  what  a  fortune  he  made  !  He  was  original,  he  did 
things  in  a  new  way,  advertised  differently,  got  up  new  ideas, 
and  pushed  his  business  with  close  attention.  He  started  with 
out  any  money.  I  have  no  money.  He  was  a  hard  worker,  a 
thinker,  an  originator,  a  pusher.  Why  shouldn't  I  be  a  hard 
worker,  a  thinker,  an  originator  and  a  pusher  ?  I  think  I  will. 
But  these  qualifications  will  win  just  as  well  in  the  manufac 
turing  and  banking  business  as  in  mercantile  pursuits,  and  if  I 
have  them  I  shall  succeed  anywhere.  I  wonder  why  those 
people  in  Vermont  thought  I  would  not  succeed  here.  I  wish 
they  could  see  the  chances  I  have. 

"  Well,  I  do   not  think  I'll  take  to  manufacturing,  though 

here  are  a  dozen  or  so  first  class  situations  in  that  line.      I  might 

like  it  well  enough,  but  I  believe  banking  would  suit   me   better 

—that  is,  banking  or  the  mercantile  business,  and    I  don't  care 

much  which.      Of  course   banking   will  be  easier  at  first  than 

o 

clerking,  so  I  should  have  more  time  for  thought  and  study- 
time  to  get  right  down  to  the  science  of  the  business.      Yes,    I 
believe  I'll  try  banking.      Here  are  four  banks  that  want  a  young 
man.      I'll  take  a  look  at  each,  for  I  want  the  best  one." 

Thus  young  Randolph  reasoned,  feeling  no  uneasiness  about 
procuring  a  situation,  though  he  had  wasted  in  building  foolish 
air  castles  so  much  valuable  time  that  he  had  really  almost  no 
chance  of  obtaining  a  situation  of  any  kind  that  day.  This  he 
learned  to  his  sorrow  a  little  later,  when  he  commenced  in 
earnest  the  very  difficult  undertaking  of  getting  employment  in 
a  great  city. 


20  THE  BO  Y  BR OKER, 


CHAPTER  II. 

AX    EFFORT    TO    OBTAIN    EMPLOYMENT. 

WHAT  a  common  occurrence  it  is  for  people  to  do  foolish 
things.  How  often  we  see  a  man  of  education  and 
broad  influence — a  hard  headed  man  of  sense,  who  has  made 
his  own  way  against  stubborn  opposition,  and  accumulated  great 
wealth — how  often,  I  say,  we  see  such  a  man  exhibit  a  degree 
of  simplicity  in  money  making  or  some  other  matter  that  would 
seem  weak  in  an  untutored  boy.  \Yhen  he  already  has  more 
money  than  he  knows  what  to  do  with,  he  will  perhaps  hazard 
all  on  some  wild  cat  speculation,  and  in  a  very  little  while  find 
himself  penniless  and  unable  to  furnish  support  for  his  family. 
Again  he  becomes  the  victim  of  a  confidence  game,  and  only 
learns  how  he  has  been  played  with  when  he  has  lost  perhaps 
fifty  thousand  dollars  by  the  unscrupulous  sharpers  with  whom 
he  has  been  dealing. 

o 

Such  exhibitions  of  weakness  in  men  to  whom  the  com 
munity  looks  for  an  example  are  always  surprising,  always 
painful  ;  but  they  teach  us  the  important  fact  that  human  nature 
is  easily  influenced,  easily  molded,  easily  led  this  way  or  that 
when  the  proper  influences  are  brought  to  bear  upon  it. 

It  is  not  so  strange,  then,  that  young  Herbert  Randolph, 
fresh  from  the  country  and  as  ignorant  of  the  city  as  a  native 
African,  should  have  become  dazzled  by  the  flattering  prospects 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  2 1 

spread  out  before  him.  What  a  busy  city  New  York  seemed 
to  him  when  he  landed  from  the  boat  in  the  early  morning  ! 
Everything  was  bustle  and  activity.  People  were  hurrying 
along  the  streets  as  he  had  never  seen  them  move  in  his  quiet 
country  town.  No  idlers  were  about.  Men  and  boys  alike 
were  full  of  business — they  showed  it  in  their  faces,  their  every 
movement.  These  facts  impressed  the  young  country  lad  far 
more  than  the  tall  buildings  and  fine  streets.  His  own  active 
nature  bounded  with  admiration  at  the  life  and  dash  on  every 
hand.  He  had  been  reared  among  sleepy  people— people  in  a 
rut,  whose  blood  flowed  as  slowly  as  the  sluggish  current  upon 
which  they  floated  towards  their  final  destiny. 

But  young  Randolph  was  not  of  their  class.  He  had  in 
herited  an  active  mind,  and  an  ambition  that  made  him  chafe 
at  his  inharmonious  surroundings  at  home.  The  very  atmos 
phere,  therefore,  of  this  great  city,  laden  with  the  hum  of  ac 
tivity,  was  stimulating  and  even  intoxicating  to  his  boundless 

J  O  O 

ambition.  He  had  been  a  great' reader.  Biography  had  been 
his  favorite  pastime  He  knew  the  struggles  and  triumphs  of 
man\-  of  our  most  conspicuous  merchant  princes.  Not  a  few 
familiar  names,  displayed  on  great  buildings  which  towered  over 
the  tops  of  their  smaller  neighbors,  greeted  his  eyes  as  he  ap 
proached  the  city  by  boat,  and  passed  through  the  streets  after 
landing.  These  sights  were  food  for  his  imagination.  He  com 
pared  himself,  his  qualifications,  his  poverty,  and  his  opportun 
ities  for  advancement  in  this  world  of  activity  with  the  advent 
into  New  York  of  the  men  he  had  taken  as  models  for  his  own 
career.  There  was  in  a  general  way  a  striking  likeness  between 
the  two  pictures  as  he  viewed  them.  Their  struggles  had  been 
so  long  and  fierce  that  it  seemed  to  him  they  must  have  been 
made  of  iron  to  finally  win  the  fight. 


22  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Yet  these  very  difficulties  lent  attractiveness  to  the  picture. 
They  made  heroes  of  his  models,  whose  example  he  burned 
with  enthusiasm  to  follow.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  in  the 
early  morning-  he  expected  to  meet  bitter  discouragements,  to 
encounter  poverty  in  its  most  depressing  form,  and  to  meet  re 
buffs  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left.  He  expected  all  this. 
He  rather  craved  it  from  the  sentimental,  heroic  standpoint,  be 
cause  the  men  he  had  chosen  to  follow  had  been  compelled  to 
force  their  way  through  a  similar  opposition. 

From  this  view  of  the  boy  it  is  plain  that  he  was  sincere  in 
thanking  young  Bob  Hunter,  a  little  later,  for  the  newsboy's 
generous  offer  to  take  him  into  the  paper  trade.  But  a  little 
later  still,  when  he  enters  the  post  office  and  becomes  intoxi 
cated  with  the  sudden,  the  unexpected,  the  overwhelming  op 
portunities  displayed  before  him — the  urgent  demands,  even, 
for  his  services  in  helping  to  push  forward  the  commerce  of  this 
vast  city,  he  presents  himself  in  an  entirely  new  light.  His 
head  has  been  turned.  He  has  lost  sight  of  the  early  struggles 
of  his  heroes,  and  now  revels  in  the  brilliant  pictures  drawn  by 
his  imagination.  How  flattering  to  himself  are  these  airy, 
short  lived  fabrics,  and  how  sweet  to  his  young  ambition  ! 

Had  young  Randolph  been  an  ordinary  boy  of  slow  intel 
lect,  he  would  never  have  indulged  in  these  beautiful  dreams, 
which  to  the  stupid  mind  would  seem  silly  and  absurd,  but  to 
him  were  living  realities — creations  to  beckon  him  on,  to  en 
courage  him  in  the  hours  of  danger  and  to  sustain  him  in  the 
stern  battle  before  him. 

Did  he  then  waste  his  time  in  what  would  seem  wild  imag 
ination,  when  a  more  practically  minded  boy  would  have  been 
applying  for  work  ?  Yes,  in  the  smaller  sense,  he  idled  his 
time  away  ;  but  in  the  broader,  he  builded  better  than  he  knew. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


To  be  sure,  he  had  lost  the  op 
portunity  of  securing  a  situation 
on  that  day — and  he  needed  work 
urgently — but  he  had  fixed  upon 
an  ideal — a  standard  of  his  own, 
to  be  the  goal  of  all  his  efforts 
and  struggles.  And  such  an  ideal 
was  priceless  to  him.  It  would 
prove  priceless  to  any  boy,  for 
without  lofty  aims  no  young  man 
can  ever  hope  to  occupy  a  high 
position  in  life. 

Of  course  he  appears  foolish  in 
forgetting  what  he  had  antici 
pated,  namely  the  difficulties  he 
would  in  all  probability  experi- 


MEMORIES   OF   COUNTRY    LIFE — THE    GREETING    BY   THE   WAY. 


24  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

ence  in  finding  a  situation,  but  the  fact  that  five  thousand 
positions  were  offered  to  him  who  knew  nothing  of  the  tremen 
dous  demand  for  such  situations  entirely  deluded  him.  Once 
forgetting  this  important  point,  his  mind  ran  on  and  on,  grow 
ing  bolder  and  bolder  as  thought  sped  forward  unrestrained  in 
wild,  hilarious  delight. 

What  pleasure  in  that  half  hour's  thought — sweet,  pure,  in 
toxicating  pleasure,  finer  and  more  delicate  than  any  real  scene 
in  life  can  ever  afford. 

But  everything  has  a  price,  and  that  price  must  many  times 
be  paid  in  advance.  Those  delightful  moments  passed  in 
thinking  out  for  himself  a  grand  career  cost  young  Randolph 
far  more  than  he  felt  he  could  afford  to  pay.  They  cost  him 
the  opportunity  of  securing  a  position  on  that  day,  and  made 
him  sick  at  his  own  ignorance  and  folly.  He  felt  ashamed  of 
himself  and  disgusted  at  his  stupidity,  as  he  walked  block  after 
block  with  tired  feet  and  heavy  heart,  after  being  coldly  turned 
away  from  dozens  of  business  houses  with  no  encouragement 
whatever.  He  went  from  banking  to  mercantile  pursuits,  then 
to  insurance,  to  manufacturing,  arid  so  on  down,  grade  after 
grade,  till  he  would  have  been  glad  to  get  any  sort  of  position 
at  honest  labor.  But  none  was  offered  to  him  and  he  found  no 
opening  of  any  sort. 

Night  was  coming  on.  He  was  tired  and  hungry.  His 
spirits  ran  low.  In  the  post  office  in  the  early  part  of  the  day 
they  soared  to  unusual  height,  and  now  they  were  correspond 
ingly  depressed.  What  should  he  do  next  ?  Where  should 
he  spend  the  night  ?  These  questions  pressed  him  for  an  an 
swer.  He  thought  of  Bob  Hunter,  and  his  cheeks  flushed 
with  shame.  He  would  not  have  the  newsboy  know  how  fool 
ish  he  had  been  to  waste  his  time  in  silly  speculation.  He 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  2 5 

knew  the  young  New  Yorker  would  question  him,  and  he  would 
have  to  hide  the  real  cause  of  his  failure,  should  he  join  his 
friend.  He  was  fast  nearing  Bob's  place  of  business,  and  he 
decided  to  stop  for  a  few  moments'  reflection,  and  to  rest  his 
weary  limbs  as  well.  Accordingly  he  stepped  to  the  inner  side 
of  the  flagging  and  rested  against  the  massive  stone  base  of  the 
Astor  House. 

Looking  to  his  right  Broadway  extended  down  to  the  Bat 
tery,  and  to  his  left  it  stretched  far  away  northward.  Up 
this  famous  thoroughfare  a  mighty  stream  of  humanity  flowed 
homeward.  Young  Randolph  watched  the  scene  with  much 
interest,  forgetting  for  a  time  his  own  heavy  heart.  Soon, 
however,  the  question  what  to  do  with  himself  pressed  him 
again  for  an  answer.  How  entirely  alone  he  felt !  Of  all  the 
thousands  of  people  passing  by  him,  not  one  with  a  familiar 
face.  Every  one  seemed  absorbed  in  himself,  and  took  no 
more  notice  of  our  country  lad  than  if  he  had  been  a  portion  of 
the  cold  inanimate  granite  against  which  he  stood.  Herbert 
felt  this  keenly,  for  in  the  country  it  was  so  different.  There 
every  one  had  a  kind  look  or  a  pleasant  word  for  a  fellow  man 
to  cheer  him  on  his  way. 


26  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  III. 

AN    EVENING    WITH    BOB    HUNTER. 

CHILLY  from  approaching  night  and  strengthening  wind, 
and  depressed  by  a  disheartening  sense  of  loneliness  and 
a  keen  realization  of  failure  on  the  first  clay  of  his  new  career, 
Herbert  felt  homesick  and  almost  discouraged. 

At  length  he  joined  the  passers  by,  and  walked  quickly  until 
opposite  City  Hall  Park.  He  crossed  Broadway  and  soon 
found  himself  at  young  Bob  Hunter's  "  place  of  business."  The 
latter  was  "  in,"  and  very  glad  he  seemed  to  see  his  new  friend 
again.  His  kindly  grasp  of  the  hand  and  hearty  welcome 
acted  like  magic  upon  Herbert  Randolph  ;  but  his  wretchedly 
disheartened  look  did  not  change  in  time  to  escape  the  keen 
young  newsboy's  notice. 

"  Didn't  strike  it  rich  today,  did  you  ?"  said  he,  with  a  smile. 

"  No,"  replied  Herbert  sadly. 

"  Didn't  find  no  benevelent  old  gentleman — them  as  is 
always  looking  for  poor  boys  to  help  along  and  give  'em  money 
and  a  bang  up  time  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  see  any  such  philanthropist  looking  for  me,"  an 
swered  Herbert,  slightly  puzzled,  for  the  newsboy's  face  was 
seriousness  itself. 

"Well,  that  is  all  fired  strange.  I  don't  see  how  he  missed 
you,  for  they  takes  right  to  country  boys." 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  I  did  not  start  out  very  early,"  remarked  Herbert  doubt 
fully,  and  with  heightened  color. 

"  Then  that's  how  it  happened,  I  guess,"  said  Bob,  with  a 
very  thoughtful  air.  "  But  you  must  have  found  somebody's 
pocket  book — 

"What  do  you  mean?"  interrupt 
ed  Herbert  suspiciously. 

"  Mean  -  -  why  what  could  I 
mean  ?  Wasn't  it  plain  what  I  said  ? 
Wasn't  I  speaking  good  English,  I'd 
like  to  know  ? "  said  Bob,  apparently 
injured. 

"  Your  language  was  plain,  to  be 


sure,    and    your    English    was 


good 


enough,"  apologized  Herbert ;  "  but  I 
can't  see  why  I  should  find  anybody's 
pocket  book." 

"Jest  what  I  thought,  but  you  see 
you  don't  know  the  ways  of  New  York. 
You  will  learn,  though,  and  you 
will  be  surprised  to  see  how  easy  it  is 
to  pick  up  a  pocket  book  full  of 
greenbacks  and  bonds — perhaps  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars  in  anyone 
of  'em — and  then  you  will  take  it  to  the  man  what  lost  it,  and 
he  will  give  you  a  lots  of  money,  maby  a  thousand  dollars  or 
so — 'twoulcln't  be  much  of  a  man  as  would  do  less  than  a 
thousand.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I   don't  know  what  to  think.      I   cannot  understand  you, 
Bob   Hunter." 

"  That's  'cause  you  don't  know  me,   and  ain't   posted   on 


THE  BENEVOLENT  OLD  GENTLEMAN 

PRESSES  MONEY  ON  THE 

COUNTRY  BOY. 


28  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

what  I'm  saying.  Maby  I  am  springin'  it  on  you  kinder  fresh 
for  the  first  day,  though  I  guess  you  will  stand  it.  But  tell  me, 
Vermont,  about  the  runaway  horse  that  you  stopped." 

"  The  runaway  horse  that  I  stopped  !  "  exclaimed  Herbert. 
"  You  must  be  mad  to  talk  in  this  way." 

"  Mad  !  Well,  that's  good  ;  that's  the  best  thing  I've  heard 
of  yet !  Do  I  look  like  a  fellow  that's  mad  ?  "  and  he  laughed 
convulsively,  much  to  the  country  lad's  annoyance. 

"No,  you  do  not  look  as  if  you  were  mad,  but  you  cer 
tainly  act  as  if  you  were,"  replied  the  latter  sharply. 

"  Now  look  a  here,  Vermont,  this  won't  do,"  said  Bob,  very 
serious  again.  "  You  are  jest  tryin'  to  fool  me,  but  you  can't 
do  it,  Vermont,  I'll  tell  you  that  straight.  Of  course  I  don't 
blame  you  for  wantin'  to  be  kinder  modest  about  it,  for  I  s'pose 
it  seems  to  you  like  puttin'  on  airs  to  admit  you  saved  their 
lives.  But  then  'tain't  puttin'  on  no  airs  at  all.  Ef  I  was  you 
I'd  be  proud  to  own  it  ;  other  boys  always  owns  it,  and  they 
don't  show  no  modesty  about  it  the  same  as  what  you  do, 
either.  And  I  don't  know  why  they  should,  for  it's  something 
to  be  proud  of ;  and  you  know,  Vermont,  the  funniest  thing 
about  it  is  that  them  runaways  is  always  stopped  by  boys  from 
the  country  jest  like  you.  Don't  ask  me  why  it  happens  so, 
for  I  don't  know  myself ;  but  all  the  books  will  tell  you  that  it 
is  so.  And  jest  think,  Vermont,  how  many  lives  they  save  ! 
You  know  the  coachman  gets  paralyzed,  and  the  horses  runs 
away  and  he  tumbles  off  his  box,  and  a  rich  lady  and  her 
daughter — they  are  always  rich,  and  the  daughter  is  always  in 
the  carriage,  too — funny,  ain't  it,  but  it's  as  true  as  I'm  alive  ; 
and  the  boy  rushes  at  the  horses  when  they  are  going  like  a 
cyclone,  and  stops  'em  jest  as  the  carriage  is  going  to  be 
dashed  to  pieces.  And  then  the  lady  cries  and  throws  her 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


29 


V 


arms  round  the  boy,  and  kisses  him,  and  puts  a  hundred  dol 
lars  in  his  hands,  and   he  refuses  it.      Then  the  lady  and   her 
daughter  ask  him  to  come  up  to  their  house,  and  the  next  day 
her    husband   gets  a  bang    up  position    for 
him,   where    he  can    make    any    amount    of 
money. 

"  Now  I  call  that  somethin'   to   be  proud 
of,  as  I  said  before,  and  I  don't  see  no  sense 
in    your    tryin'   to   seem   ignorant    about   it. 
Why,  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  a    bit  ef  you 
would  try  to  make  out  that  you  wasn't  anear 
any  tire  today.      But  that  wouldn't  do,  Ver 
mont — I'll  give  you  a  pointer  on  that  now, 
so  you  won't   attempt   no    such    tomfoolery 
with  me,  for  no  boy  like  you  ever  comes  into 
a  town  like  New  York  is 
and  don't  save  somebody 
from  burning  up — rescue 
'em   from   a  tall  building 
when  nobody  else  can  get 
to  'em.     And   of 
course  for  doing 
this    they   get 
pushed      right 
ahead  into  some 
thing  fine,  while 
us     city     fellows 
have    to    shin 
around  lively  for 
a  livin'. 


THE   COUNTRY    BOY    FINDS   A   WELL    FILLED    POCKET  BOOK. 


"  I  don't  know 


30  THE  HOY  BROKER. 

ef  you  saved  anybody  from  drowning  or  not ;  I  won't  say  that 
you  did,  but  ef  you  didn't  you  ain't  in  luck,  that's  all  I've  got 
to  say  about  it.  So  you  see  'taint  much  use  for  you  to  try  to 
deceive  me,  Vermont,  for  I  know  jest  what's  a  fair  day's  work 
for  a  boy  from  the  country — jest  what's  expected  of  him  on 
his  first  day  here.  Why,  ef  you  don't  believe  me  (and  I  know 
you  don't  by  the  way  you  look),  jest  get  all  the  books  that  tells 
about  country  boys  coming  to  New  York,  and  read  what  they 
say,  that's  all  I  ask  of  you,  Vermont.  Now  come,  own  up  and 
tell  it  straight." 

"  Bob,  you  are  altogether  too  funny,"  laughed  Herbert, 
now  that  the  drift  of  his  friend's  seemingly  crazy  remarks  was 
plain  to  him.  "  How  can  you  manage  to  joke  so  seriously,  and 
why  do  you  make  fun  of  me  ?  Because  I  am  from  the  country, 
I  suppose." 

"  I  hope  I  didn't  hurt  your  feelings,  Vermont,"  replied  Bob, 
enjoying  greatly  his  own  good  natured  satire. 

"  No,  not  at  all,  Bob  Hunter,  but  until  I  saw  your  joke  I 
thought  surely  you  were  insane." 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  thought  you  needed  something  to  kinder 
knock   the   blues   that   you   brought  back  with   you  tonight— 
'tain't   much  fun   to   have   'em,    is   it  ?     Sometimes    I    get   'em 
myself,  so    I    know  what   they're   like.      But  now  to  be  honest, 
and  not  fool  no  more,  didn't  you  get  no  show  today  ?  " 

"  No,  not  the  least  bit  of  encouragement,"  replied  Herbert. 

"  And  you  kept  up  the  hunt  all  day  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  ought  ter  told  you  that  that  wan't  no  use." 

"How  is  that  ?" 

"  Why,  don't  you  see,  it's  the  first  fellers  what  gets  the  jobs, 
—them  as  gets  round  early." 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  And  are  there  so  many  applicants  for  every  position  ?" 

"  Are  there  ?  Well,  you  jest  bet  there  are.  I've  seen 
more'n  two  hundred  boys  after  a  place,  and  'twan't  nothin' 
extra  of  a  place,  either." 

"  But  then  there  are  thousands  of  places  to  be  filled.  Why, 
the  papers  were  full  of  them." 

"Yes,  and  there  is  a  good  many  more  thousands  what 
wants  them  same  jobs.  You  never  thought  of  that,  I  guess." 

Herbert  admitted  with  flushed  cheeks  that  he  had  not  given 
that  fact  proper  consideration. 

"  Well,  you  done  well,  any  way,  to  hang  on  so  long,"  said 
Bob,  in  his  off  hand,  comical  manner.  "  I  expected  you'd  get 
sick  before  this  time,  and  steer  straight  for  Vermont." 

"  Why  did  you  think  that  ?" 

"  Well,  most  of  the  country  boys  think 
they  can  pick  up  money  on  the  streets  in 
New  York  ;  but  when  they  get  here,  and 
begin   to  hunt   for   it,  they   tumble   rather 
spry — I  mean  they  find  they've  been  took 
in,    and    that    a    fellow   has    got   to   work 
harder,  yes,    I'd  say    so,   ten   times  harder, 
here'n  he  does  on 
a    farm.       There 
he  can  just  sleep 
and  laze  round  in 
the  sun,  and  o-o  in 

o 

swimmin',  and  all 
the  time  the  stuff 
is  just  growin'  and 
whoopin'  her  right 
along,  like  as  if  I 


L 


THE   COUNTRY    BOY    TO   THE    KE?CUE. 


-2  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

was  boss  of  a  dozen  boys,  and  they  was  all  sellin'  papers  and  I 
was  makin'  a  profit  on  'em  all,  and  wasn't  cloin'  nothin'  myself. 
So  when  these  fellers  find  out  they've  got  to  knuckle  clown 
and  shine  shoes,  why  they  just  light  out  kinder  lively,  and 
make  up  their  minds  that  New  York  ain't  much  of  a  town  no 
how." 

"And  so  you  thought  I  would  'light  out'  too,"  laughed 
Herbert. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  know.  I  told  you  I  liked  your  looks,  but  I 
hain't  much  faith  in  nobody  till  I  know  what  kind  of  stuff  a 
feller  is  made  of.  But  if  he's  got  any  sand  in  him,  then  I'll  bet 
on  his  winning  right  here  in  New  York,  and  he  won't  have  to 
go  back  home  for  his  bread.  Well,  speakin'  of  bread  reminds 
me  that  it's  about  time  to  eat  somethin',  and  I'm  all  fired  hun 
gry,  and  you  look  es  ef  'twould  do  you  good  to  get  a  little 
somethin'  warm  in  your  stomach.  Funny,  ain't  it,  we  can't  do 
nothin'  without  eatin'  ?  But  we  can't,  so  let's  eat.  Business  is 
about  over,  and  I  don't  mind  leavin'  a  little  early,  any  way." 

Herbert  assented  gladly  to  this  proposition,  and  presently 
Bob  took  him  up  Chatham  Street  to  an  eating  house  known  as 
the  "  Boss  Tweed  Restaurant  "-—a  restaurant  the  cheapness  of 
which  recommended  it,  five  cents  being  the  established  price 
for  a  meal. 

"  I  s'pose  you  hain't  made  no  plans  for  a  place  to  sleep 
yet  ?  "  said  the  newsboy,  while  eating  their  frugal  fare. 

"  No,"  replied  Herbert.  "  I  thought  I  would  wait  and  see 
you  before  making  any  move  in  that  direction.  You  are  the 
only  one  I  know  in  the  city." 

"And  'tain't  much  you  know  about  me." 

"  Very  true  ;  but  from  your  appearance  I'm  satisfied  to 
trust  myself  with  you." 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"You're  takin'  big  chances  ef  you  do,"  replied  Bob, 
happily;  "but  ef  you  want  to  take  the  resk,  why  we  will  jest 
look  up  a  room  and  occupy  it  together.  I  kinder  think  I'd 
like  the  scheme.  I've  been  sleepin'  at  the  -Newsboys'  Lodging 
House,  but  I'm  tired  of  it.  What  do  you  say?" 

"  I  say  yes," 
replied  Herbert. 
He  was  only  too 
glad  of  the 
chance,  and  liked 
the  idea  of  hav 
ing  Bob  Hunter 
for  a  room  mate. 
He  thought  there 

o 

would  be  some 
thing  fascinating 

*_>  o 

about  living  with 

O 

a  newsboy,  and 
learning  this 
phase  of  life  in  a 
great  city,  espec 
ially  when  the 
newsboy  was  so 
droll  as  Bob  Hunter  had  already  shown  himself  to  be. 

"All  right,  then,  it's  a  go,"  replied  Bob,  greatly  pleased. 

When  the  meal  had  been  finished  they  continued  up  Chat 
ham  Street  into  the  Bowery,  and  then  turned  into  a  side  street 
where  inexpensive  rooms  were  offered  for  rent.  After  a  little 
hunting  they  found  one  at  a  cost  of  one  dollar  a  week  which 
proved  satisfactory.  They  immediately  took  possession,  and 
went  to  bed  very  early,  as  Herbert  was  practically  worn  out. 


AT   THE    BOSS   TWEED    RESTAURANT. 


34  THE  BOY  BR OKER. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AT   MR.  GOLDWIN'S  OFFICE. 

ON  the  following  morning  both  boys  rose  early  and  break 
fasted  together.      Then  Bob  hurried  away  to  his  paper 
trade,  and   Herbert   applied  himself  diligently  to  reading   the 
"  wants."     The    following   advertisement    especially    attracted 
his  attention  : 

~V\7"ANTED,  a  bright,  smart  American  boy  of  about 

'•       sixteen  years  of  age;  must  have  good  education, 

good  character,  and  be  willing  to  work.     Salary  small, 

but  faithful  services  will  be  rewarded  with  advancement. 

RICHARD  GOLDWIN, 

Banker  and  Broker,  Wall  Street. 

"  I  think  I  can  fill  those  requirements,"  said  young  Randolph 
to  himself,  thoughtfully.  "  For  all  I  can  see,  I  am  as  likely  to 
be  accepted  by  a  banker  as  a  baker  or  any  one  else  in  want  of 
help.  There  will  doubtless  be  a  lot  of  applicants  for  the  posi 
tion,  and  so  there  would  if  the  demand  was  for  street  cleaning, 
therefore  I  think  I  may  as  well  take  my  chances  with  the  bank 
as  at  anything  else." 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  he  talked  the  matter  over 
with  Bob  Hunter,  upon  whose  practical  sense  Herbert  was  be 
ginning  to  place  a  high  value.  The  shrewd  young  newsboy  ap 
proved  of  the  plan,  so  our  country  lad  started  early  for  Wall 
Street,  where  the  great  money  kings  are  popularly  supposed  to 
hold  high  carnival,  and  do  all  sorts  of  extraordinary  things. 
When  he  arrived,  however,  at  Richard  Goldwin's  banking  house, 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


35 


his  hopes  sank  very  low,  for  before  him  was  a  long  line  of  per 
haps  forty  or  fifty  boys,  each  of  whom  had  come  there  hoping 
to  secure  the  advertised  position. 

This  crowd  of  young  Americans  comprised  various  grades 
of  boys.  Some  were  stupid,  others  intelligent ;  a  few  were 
quiet  and  orderly,  but  the  majority  were  boisterous  and  rough. 
Squabbling  was  active,  and  taunts  and  jeers  were  so  numerous, 
that  a  strange  boy  from  a  quiet  country  home  would  have 
hardly  dared  to  join  this  motley  crowd,  unless  he  was  possessed 
of  rare  courage  and  determination. 

Herbert  Ran 
dolph  paused  for  a 
moment  when  he 
had  passed  through 
the  outer  door,  and 
beheld  the  spectacle 
before  him.  He 
wondered  if  he  had 
made  a  mistake  and 
entered  the  wrong 
place ;  but  before 
he  had  time  to  settle 
this  question  in  his 
own  mind,  one  of 
the  boys  before  him, 
who  was  taller  and 
more  uncivil  than 
those  about  him, 
and  seemed  to  be  a 
leader  among  them, 
shouted,  derisively  : 


A   GLIMPSE    OF   WALL   STREET. 


36  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Here's  a  new  candidate — right  from  the  barnyard  too  !" 

All  turned  their  attention  at  once  to  the  object  of  the  speak 
er's  ridicule,  and  joined  him  in  such  remarks  as  "potato  bug," 
"country,"  "corn  fed,"  "greeny,"  "boots,"  and  all  the  time  they 
howled  and  jeered  at  the  boy  from  the  farm  most  unmercifully. 

"  You  think  you'll  carry  off  this  position,  maybe,"  said  the 
leader,  sarcastically.  "  You'd  better  go  home  and  raise  cabbage 
or  punkins !" 

Again  the  crowd  exploded  with  laughter,  and  as  many 
mean  things  as  could  be  thought  of  were  said.  Herbert  made 
no  reply,  but  instead  of  turning  back  and  running  away  from 
such  a  crowd,  as  most  boys  would  have  done,  he  stepped  for 
ward  boldly,  and  took  his  place  in  the  line  with  others  to  await 
the  arrival  of  the  banker. 

His  face  was  flushed,  and  he  showed  plainly  his  indignation 
at  the  insolent  remarks  made  to  him.  Nevertheless,  this  very 
abuse  stimulated  his  determination  to  such  a  degree,  that  he 
was  now  the  last  boy  in  the  world  to  be  driven  away  by  the  in 
sults  and  bullying  of  those  about  him. 

His  defiance  was  so  bold,  and  his  manner  was  so  firm  and 
independent,  that  he  at  once  commanded  the  respect  of  the 
majority  of  the  long  line  of  applicants,  though  all  wished  he 
were  out  of  the  way  ;  for  they  saw  in  him  a  dangerous  rival  for 
the  position  they  sought. 

A  notable  exception,  however,  to  those  who  shared  this  bet 
ter  feeling,  was  the  boy  whom  I  have  spoken  of  as  the  "leader," 
for  such  he  seemed  to  be.  He  was  no  ordinary  boy,  this  bright, 
keen,  New  York  lad,  with  a  form  of  rare  build,  tall  and  straight 
as  a  young  Indian.  He  showed  in  every  movement,  and  in  the 
manner  of  his  speech,  that  his  character  was  a  positive  one,  and 
that  nature  had  endowed  him  with  the  qualities  of  a  leader. 


HKRBFRT    RANDOLPH    FINDS    HIMSELF    AMONG    A    MOB   OF    RIVAL    APPLICANTS. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  39 

These  gifts  he  now  exercised  with  remarkable  effect  upon  the 
raw  material  about  him,  if  by  such  a  term  I  may  characterize 
the  peculiarly  mixed  crowd  of  boys  in  line. 

When,  however,  Herbert  Randolph  advanced  to  his  position 
with  such  unmistakable  determination  in  his  manner,  and  with 
firmness  so  distinctly  showing  in  every  muscle  of  his  face,  our 
young  leader  trembled  visibly  for  an  instant,  and  then  the  hot 
blood  mantling  his  cheeks  betrayed  his  anger. 

He  had  endeavored  to  drive  away  the  young  Vermonter 
by  jeers  and  bullying,  but  he  failed  in  this  attempt.  In  him 
he  found  his  match — a  boy  quite  equal  to  himself  in  determin 
ation,  in  the  elegance  of  his  figure  and  the  superiority  of  his 
intellect. 

The  country  boy  lacked,  however,  the  polish  and  grace  of 
the  city,  and  that  ease  and  assurance  that  comes  from  associa 
tion  with  people  in  large  towns.  But  the  purity  of  his  charac 
ter,  a  character  as  solid  as  the  granite  hills  of  his  native  State, 
was  of  infinitely  more  value  to  him  than  was  all  the  freedom  of 
city  manner  to  the  New  York  lad. 

These  two  boys  were  no  ordinary  youths.  Each  of  them 
possessed  a  positive  and  determined  character.  The  one  was 
bold  as  the  other,  and  in  intellect  and  the  commanding  quali 
ties  of  their  minds  they  were  giants  among  boys. 

The  others  felt  this  now  in  the  case  of  both,  as  they  had  but 
a  few  moments  before  felt  it  regarding  the  one.  They  realized 
their  own  inferiority.  The  jeering  and  bullying  ceased,  and  all 
\vas  quiet,  save  the  slam  of  the  cloor,  as  new  applicants  now 
and  then  dropped  in  and  joined  the  line.  The  silence  became 
painful  as  the  two  prominent  figures  eyed  each  other.  Herbert 
knew  better  than  to  make  the  first  move.  He  waited  the 
action  of  his  rival,  ready  to  defend  his  position. 


40  THE  BOY  BR OKER. 

The  strange  and  sudden  quiet  of  all  the  boys,  who  had  but 
a  few  moments  before  been  so  noisy  and  insulting,  gave  him 
renewed  courage.  He  saw,  to  his  great  relief,  that  he  had  but 
one  mind  to  contend  with — but  one  enemy  to  overcome.  In 
this  one's  face,  however,  was  pictured  a  degree  of  cunning  and 
anger  that  he  had  never  seen  before  in  all  his  simple  life. 

The  evil  designs  in  the  face  of  the  city  boy  momentarily 
became  more  noticeable.  Why  had  he  so  suddenly  stopped 
his  derisive  remarks  ?  And  why  should  he  show  his  evident 
hatred  toward  our  hero  ?  Is  it  possible  that  he  dare  not  at 
tack  him,  and  that  he  is  afraid  to  continue  the  bullying  further  ? 
That  he  feels  that  Herbert  is  his  equal,  and  perhaps  more  than 
a  match  for  him,  seems  evident ;  and  yet  he  will  not  acknowl 
edge  himself  inferior  to  any  one,  much  less  to  this  country  lad. 

"  No,  he  shall  not  get  this  situation  away  from  me,"  he  said 
determinedly  to  himself ;  and  then  his  mind  seemed  bent  upon 
some  deep  plot  or  wicked  scheme. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  41 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     CONTEST     BETWEEN     HERBERT     AND     FELIX. 

PRESENTLY  the  inner  doors  of  the  banking  house  were 
thrown  open,  and  a  gentleman  of  perhaps  a  little  more 
than  middle  age  stepped  lightly  into  the  corridor,  where  the 
boys  awaited  his  arrival.  He  had  a  kindly  face,  and  a  sharp 
but  pleasant  blue  eye. 

All  seemed  to  know  intuitively  that  he  was  Richard  Gold- 
win,  the  banker,  and  consequently  each  one  made  a  dashing, 
but  somewhat  comical  effort  to  appear  to  good  advantage. 

"  Good  morning,  boys,"  said  the  banker,  pleasantly,  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  so  many  of  you  here,  and  I  wish  I  was  able  to 
give  each  one  of  you  a  position.  I  see,  however,  that  many 
of  you  are  too  young  for  my  purpose  ;  therefore  it  would  be 
useless  to  waste  your  time  and  mine  by  further  examination." 

In  a  little  time  the  contest  had  narrowed  down  to  but  two, 
and  they  were  Herbert  Randolph,  and  the  boy  who  had  so  in 
effectually  attempted  to  drive  him  away. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?"  asked  the  banker  of  the  city  lad. 

"  My  name  is  Felix  Mortimer." 

"Felix  Mortimer?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Mortimer,  Mortimer,"  repeated  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  The  name 
sounds  familiar,  but  I  can't  place  it.  Do  you  live  in  New  York  ?" 


42  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  In  what  part  of  the  city  ?" 

"  In  Eleventh  Street,  sir — on  the  East  Side." 

"  Well,  you  appear  like  a  bright  boy.  Are  you  ambitious 
to  work  your  way  up  in  a  solid,  reliable  business  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am;  and  banking  is  just  what  I  would  like." 

"  And  you  are  willing  to  work  hard?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  think  I  could  satisfy  you  that  I  am." 

"  What  is  your  age  ? " 

"  I  am  seventeen  years  old." 

"  Have  you  ever  worked  in  any  business  house  ?" 

"Yes,  I  have  had  two  years'  experience  in  business." 

"You  commenced  rather  young — so  young  that  I  am  afraid 
your  education  was  neglected." 

"Well,  I  was  a  good  scholar  in  school;  here  is  a  recom 
mendation  from  my  teacher." 

Richard  Goldwin  read  the  letter,  which  purported  to  be 
signed  by  the  principal  of  a  well  known  school. 

"  This  speaks  well  of  you,"  said  the  banker. 

Felix  looked  pleased,  and  cast  a  triumphant  glance  at  Her 
bert,  who  sat  at  a  little  distance  off,  anxiously  awaiting  his  turn 
to  be  examined.  He  was  afraid  the  banker  might  settle  upon 
young  Mortimer  without  even  investigating  his  own  fitness  for 
the  position. 

"  Eor  what  firm  did  you  work?"  asked  Richard  Goldwin. 

"  For  Wormley  &  Jollup,"  replied  Felix,  firmly. 
'The  large  trunk  manufacturers  up  Broadway?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Why  didn't  you  remain  with  them  ?" 

This  question  would  have  confused  some  boys,  had  they 
been  in  the  place  of  Felix  ;  but  it  did  not  affect  him  in  the 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  43 

slightest   degree,   though   the  keen   and  practiced   eye   of  the 
banker  watched  him  closely. 

"Why,  don't  you  remember  that  Wormley  &  Jollup  had  a 
big  strike  in  their  factory  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  papers  printed  a  great  deal  about  it." 

"  Well,  you  see,  they  couldn't  get  any  trunks  made  ;  so 
business  got  dull  in  the  store." 

"  They  wouldn't  give  in  to  the  strikers,  I  believe  ?" 

"  No  ;  and  the  result  was  they  had  to  let  a  lot  of  us  go." 

"  It  was  an  unfortunate  affair.  But  I  suppose  you  got  a 
recommendation  from  Wormley  &  Jollup  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Felix,  with  all  the  assurance  of  one  who 
was  telling  the  truth;  "there  it  is — signed  by  Mr.  Jollup  him 
self." 

The  letter  was  highly  complimentary  to  Felix  Mortimer. 

"  No  one  could  ask  for  a  better  recommendation  than  this,"" 
said  the  banker,  looking  as  if  he  thought  he  had  found  a  prize 
in  the  boy  before  him. 

Had  he  suspected  that  this  very  recommendation  was  forged, 
he  would  have  been  angry.  Now,  however,  he  felt  quite  the 
reverse  ;  and  decided  to  give  Herbert  a  hearing  more  as  a  mat-' 
ter  of  courtesy  than  otherwise,  for  he  had  practically  settled 
upon  young  Mortimer  for  the  position  in  his  banking  house. 

Felix  saw  this  and  could  hardly  restrain  his  happiness,  as  he 
saw  pictured  on  the  young  Vermonter's  face  unmistakable  dis 
comfiture. 

"Well,  you  may  be  seated,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin  ;  "  I  wish  to 
see  what  this  young  man  has  to  say  for  himself  before  engag 
ing  any  one." 

"So  you  came  from  Vermont,  right  from  the  farm?"  said 
the  banker  to  Herbert,  after  a  few  minutes'  conversation. 


44 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  young  Randolph. 

"  And  I  suppose  you  expect  to  make  your  fortune  in  this 
city  ?" 

"  I  have  not  got  so  far  along  as  that  yet,  sir.  I  hope,  how 
ever,  that  I  shall  do  well  here." 

"You  look  like  a  plucky  lad,  and  those  red  cheeks  of  yours 
are  worth  a  fortune.  I  remember  well  when  mine  were  as  full 
of  rich  young  blood  as  yours  are  now.  I  was  a  country  lad  my 
self." 

"  Then  your  career  shows  that  a  boy  from  the  country  may 
make  a  success." 

"Yes,  that  is  very  true.  Many  of  our  most  successful  men 
came  from  the  farm  ;  but  I  assure  you,  my  boy,  that  success  is 
not  an  easy  thing  to  pick  up  in  a  big  city.  The  chances  are  a 
hundred  to  one  against  any  boy  who  comes  here  from  the 
country.  If,  however,  he  does  not  succumb  to  temptation,  and 

has  sufficient  pluck  and  perseverance,  he  can  do  well  in  this 

•  A.    " 
city. 

"  I  am  quite  ready  to  take  that  hundredth  chance,"  said 
Herbert,  in  a  way  that  pleased  the  banker. 

"  Well,  I  admire  your  courage,  young  man,  but  now  to  re 
turn  to  business.  Suppose  I  were  to  give  you  a  situation,  how 
could  you  live  on  three  dollars  a  week  ?  You  say  you  have  no 
means,  and  must  earn  your  own  living.  I  cannot  pay  a  larger 
salary  at  first." 

"I  am  sure  I  can  manage  that  all  right,  sir;  one  can  do 
what  he  must  do." 

"That  is  true;  your  ideas  are  sound  there,  surely.  What 
is  your  age  ?  " 

"I  am  nearly  seventeen,  sir." 

"  You  are  so  strongly  built,  perhaps  you   could  get  a  place 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  45 

where  more  money  could  be  paid  for  your  services ;  some  place 
where  heavy  work  is  to  be  done." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  hard  work,  for  I  have  always  been  ac 
customed  to  it ;  but  I  would  much  rather  have  a  chance  where 
there  are  good  prospects  ahead." 

"  Again  you  are  right,"  said  the  banker,  now  becoming  in 
terested  in  the  young  Vermonter.  "What  is  your  education  ?" 

"  I  passed  through  our  district  school,  and  went  for  several 
terms  to  the  Green  Mountain  Academy.  I  have  taught  three 
terms  of  school." 

"  Three  terms !  You  certainly  must  have  commenced 
young." 

"Yes;  I  was  not  very  old.  I  got  my  first  school  when  I 
was  fifteen." 

"  Do  you  write  a  good  hand?  Please  come  to  this  desk, 
.and  show  me  what  you  can  do." 

Herbert  complied  readily  with  the  request,  and  was  most 
happy  to  do  so,  for  he  had  spent  many  hours  in  practicing  pen 
manship,  and  now  wrote  a  beautiful  hand. 

Richard  Goldwin  was  surprised  when  he  took  up  the  sheet 
of  paper  and  ran  his  eye  over  the  well  formed  letters. 

"Mr.  Mortimer,  will  you  please  show  me  what  you  can  do 
with  the  pen?"  said  the  banker. 

Felix  rose  to  his  feet,  and  the  color  rose  to  his  face.  He 
wasn't  very  powerful  with  the  pen,  and  he  knew  it ;  but  another 
matter  disconcerted  him.  He  feared,  and  well  he  might,  that 
his  writing  would  resemble,  only  too  closely,  that  in  the  recom 
mendation  which  he  had  shown  to  Mr.  Goldwin.  But  he  was 
equal  to  the  emergency,  and,  to  make  the  disguise  perfect,  he 
gave  to  his  writing  the  left  hand  or  backhand  stroke.  This 
was  done  at  the  expense  of  his  penmanship,  which,  however, 


40  THE  BO  J T  BR OKER. 

would  not  have  been  considered  absolutely  bad,  had  it  not  been 
compared  with  the  gracefully  and  perfectly  cut  letters  of  Her 
bert  Randolph. 

The  banker  looked  at  both  critically  for  a  moment,  and 
then,  after  a  pause,  said  : 

"  Mr.  Mortimer,  I  \vould  like  to  speak  with  you  alone." 

The  latter  followed  him  to  the  outer  office. 

"  Your  manner  pleases  me,  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin, 
pleasantly,  "  and  with  one  exception  I  see  but  little  choice  be 
tween  you  two  boys,  but  that  little  is  in  your  competitor's 
favor." 

The  color  left  Felix  Mortimer's  face. 

"  I  refer,"  continued  the  banker,  "  to  his  penmanship,  which 
you  must  acknowledge  is  far  superior  to  your  own  ;  and  a 
good  handwriting  adds  much  to  one's  value  in  an  office  of 
this  sort.  I  see  you  are  disappointed,  and  I  knew  you  would 
be.  Do  not,  however,  feel  discouraged,  as  it  is  possible  I  may 
do  something  for  you  yet.  If  Mr.  Randolph  should  prove  un 
satisfactory  in  any  respect,  he  will  not  be  retained  permanently. 
You  may,  therefore,  if  you  choose,  run  in  here  again  in  a  day 
or  two." 

Young  Mortimer  was  greatly  disappointed  and  even  deeply 
chagrined,  for  he  had  supposed  himself  more  than  capable  of 
holding  his  own  against  this  unsophisticated  country  lacl.  Had 
he  not  attempted  to  bully  him  while  waiting  for  the  banker  and 
failed,  thus  arousing  a  spirit  of  rivalry  and  hostility  between 
young  Randolph  and  himself,  he  would  of  course  have  felt  dif 
ferently,  but  now  an  intense  hatred  was  kindled  within  him, 
and  with  burning  passion  he  determined  upon  revenge. 

Felix  Mortimer  went  direct  from  Richard  Goldwin's  bank 
ing  house  to  the  Bowery,  and  from  there  he  soon  found  his  way 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  47 

to  a  side  street,  which  contained  many  old  buildings  of  unat 
tractive  appearance.  The  neighborhood  was  a  disreputable 
one.  Squalor  was  on  every  hand,  and  many  individuals  of 
unsavory  reputations  made  this  locality  their  headquarters. 
One  of  these  was  Christopher  Gunwagner,  a  repulsive  speci 
men  of  humanity,  who  had  been  in  business  here  for  several 
years  as  a  "  fence,"  or  receiver  of  stolen  goods. 

To  this  fence  Felix  directed  his  steps. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Gunwagner,"  said  young  Mortimer, 
briskly. 

The  former  eyed  him  sharply  for  a  moment. 

"  What  do  you  want  now?"  growled  the  fence  by  way  of 
reply.  "  Why  don't  you  bring  me  something,  as  you  ought  to?" 

Felix  cut  him  short,  and  at  once  proceeded  to  business. 

"  I  came,"  said  he,  "  to  get  you  to  help  me  and  thereby  help 
yourself.  I've  got  a  chance  to  get  into  a  bank — 

"  Into  a  bank?"  interrupted  Gunwagner,  now  interested. 

-Yes." 

"Where?" 

"  On  Wall  Street,  in  Richard  Goldwin's  banking  house." 

"  If  you  don't  take  it,  you're  a  fool.  Goldwin's,  hey  ?"  he 
went  on;  "we  can  make  it  pay  us;  yes,  yes,  we  are  in  luck." 
And  he  rubbed  his  thin  hands  together  greedily. 

"  I  expect  to  take  it  as  soon  as  I  can  get  it,"  said  Felix  ;  and 
then  he  described  the  competitive  examination  between  himself 
and  the  young  Vermonter. 

"  So  you  want  to  get  him  out  of  the  way,  eh  ?" 

"  You  have  struck  it  right  this  time.  That's  just  what  I 
want,  and  propose  to  do." 

"  And  you  expect  me  to  help  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do.     To  whom  else  should  I  go?" 


48 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  What  do  you  want  me  to  clo  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  quite  got  the  plan  yet,  and  want  your  advice. 
You  see  if  I  can  get  him  out  of  the  way  for  a  few  days,  so  he 
won't  show  up,  why  old  Goldwin  will  take  me  in  his  place.  If 

I  can  once  get  in  there, 
and  remain  till  I  get  the 
run  of  things,  we  can  have 
it  our  own  way." 

Gunwagner's  face  grew 


GUNWAGNER    AND    FELIX    AGREE    UPON    A    PLAN7. 


more  and  more  ava 
ricious.  The  plan 
looked  well  to  him, 
and  he  felt  it  would 
be  a  great  thing  to 

have  Mortimer  in  a  rich  banking  house.  The  possibilities 
of  bold  pilferings  from  the  heaps  of  gold  were  most  tempting 
to  him,  and  he  was  now  quite  ready  to  commit  himself  to  any 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  40 

feasible  scheme  to  carry  out  Mortimer's  evil  design.  The  old 
fence  was  an  unscrupulous  man,  and  he  was  ready  to  go  to 
almost  any  length  in  crime  to  avail  himself  of  an  opportunity 
so  tempting  to  his  greed  of  gain. 

The  two  confederates  discussed  the  matter  for  some  time, 
and  at  length  they  agreed  upon  a  plan  of  action,  which  boded 
ill  for  our  hero. 


5o  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A      RAY      OF      SUNSHINE. 

YOUNG  Randolph  entered  upon  his  duties  at  once,  but  of 
course  did  little  more  during  the  day  than  familiarize 
himself  with  the  work  that  had  been  assigned  to  him.  Tow 
ard  evening  a  ray  of  sunshine  burst  joyously  into  the  bank, 
and  threw  a  bright  cheerful  glow  over  the  office. 

Ray  Goldwin,  the  light  hearted,  merry  daughter  of  the  senior 
partner,  with  her  sunny  face  and  winning  manners,  was  like  a 
clear  June  morning. 

Little  acts  go  far,  many  times,  to  make  one  happy  or  quite 
miserable.  It  so  happened  that  our  hero  had  been  doing  some 
writing  for  Mr.  Goldwin's  own  personal  use.  It  lay  upon  his 
desk  and  was  admirably  done.  It  was,  in  fact,  like  copper 
plate.  The  whole  arrangement  of  the  work  was  artistic  and  in 
the  best  of  taste. 

"Oh,  papa,  who  did  this  beautiful  writing  for  you?"  said 
Ray,  enthusiastically. 

"  Our  new  clerk,  Mr.  Randolph,"  responded  her  father, 
nodding  his  head  in  the  direction  of  Herbert.  The  latter  felt 
his  cheeks  grow  rosy  at  this  compliment. 

"Mr.  Randolph,"  continued  the  banker,  "will  you  kindly 
help  me  take  these  parcels  out  to  my  carriage  ?" 

"  Certainly,  sir,  with  pleasure,"  replied  Herbert,  politely. 


YOUNG    RANDOLPH    HANDED    RAY    INTO   THE   CARRIAGE   WITH    JUST  ENOUGH  EMBARRASS 
MENT    IN    HIS   MANNER   TO    INTEREST    HER. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  53 

Ray  Goldwin  looked  at  him  with  surprise  ;  and  his  hand 
some  face  and  fine  form  attracted  even  more  than  a  passing 
glance  from  her. 

"  I  want  to  run  up  to  the  corner  of  Broadway,"  said  Mr. 
Goldwin,  when  they  had  reached  the  door.  "John,  you  may 
call  for  me,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  coachman  ;  "  I  will  be 
ready  by  the  time  you  get  there." 

Young  Randolph  handed  Ray  into  the  carriage,  with  just 
enough  embarrassment  in  his  manner  to  interest  her.  Then 
he  placed  the  parcels  on  the  seat  beside  her,  receiving  mean 
while  a  smile  and  a  look  that  fully  rewarded  him.  Raising  his 
hat,  he  turned  away,  and  as  the  coachman  drove  off  he  made  a 
hasty  retreat  for  the  bank,  from  which  the  sunshine  now  seemed 
to  have  departed. 

When  he  started  for  home  at  the  close  of  business  hours, 
two  figures  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  a  little 
nearer  Broadway. 

As  Herbert  opened  the  outer  door,  preparatory  to  passing 
out,  he  took  a  position  that  brought  his  eyes  directly  upon 
them.  One  of  them,  uneasily,  but  perhaps  quite  naturally, 
placed  a  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  his  companion,  while  with  the 
other  he  pointed  directly  at  Herbert.  Then,  as  if  realizing 
that  possibly  he  had  been  detected  in  this  act,  he  nervously 
pointed  to  something  on  the  top  of  the  building,  and  all  the 
while  talked  rapidly.  This  was  sufficient  to  arrest  our  hero's 
attention.  He  watched  the  two  sharply  for  a  few  minutes 
while  standing  upon  the  steps  of  the  banking  house. 

Under  his  direct  gaze  they  appeared  somewhat  nervous,  and 
finally  moved  off  in  the  direction  of  Broadway.  Herbert  fol 
lowed  them,  or  rather  followed  out  his  purpose  to  go  up  to  City- 
Hall  Park,  and  find,  if  possible,  Bob  Hunter.  Before  reaching 


54  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Broadway,  however,  the  two  young  fellows  who  had  pointed  at 
him  stopped  and  peered  into  a  show  window,  thus  bringing 
their  backs  full  upon  Herbert  as  he  passed  them. 

He  knew  so  little  of  city  life  that  he  was  slow  to  form  an 
opinion,  thinking  that  what  seemed  odd  and  suspicious  to  him 
would  perhaps  be  all  right  in  New  York.  He  therefore  dis 
missed  the  matter  from  his  mind,  and  watched  with  amazement 
the  crowds  of  men  who  at  that  hour  of  the  day  were  pouring 
up  Broadway,  on  their  way  home  from  business. 

"What  a  great  city  this  is  !"  he  thought;  "and  it  is  Ameri 
can,  too.  I  wonder  if  any  of  the  cities  of  the  Old  World  can 
turn  out  such  a  lot  of  business  men  as  these ! " 

The  boy  \vas  right  in  asking  himself  this  question.  The 
wonder  he  felt  was  natural,  for  a  finer  body  of  men  can  rarely 
be  found  than  the  business  men  of  New  York.  And  now  he 
joined  the  stream  that  flowed  northward.  The  massive  build 
ings,  tall  and  stately,  on  either  side  of  Broadway,  captured  his 
admiration,  and  he  gazed  upon  them  with  open  mouthed  am 
azement. 

Stone  buildings  with  gigantic  pillars  and  massive  walls  ; 
buildings  ten  or  a  dozen  stories  high,  and  mighty  spires  rais 
ing  their  tops  afar  up  in  mid  air — all  these  added  to  the 
country  lad's  wonder  and  astonishment.  He  passed  by  the 
Western  Union  building  the  Evening  Post  building,  and  now 

o  o  o ' 

paused  in  front  of  the  Herald  office  to  read  the  "  headings  " 
on  the  bulletin  board. 

After  being  thus  engaged  for  a  few  moments,  he  turned 
suddenly  around,  and,  to  his  surprise,  saw  the  two  young  fel 
lows  who  had  attracted  his  attention  on  Wall  Street.  One  of 
them  had  a  look  about  him  that  seemed  familiar,  and  yet  he 
could  not  tell  where  he  had  seen  him.  His  figure,  his  eyes, 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  5 5 

and  the  shape  of  his  face  were  not  unlike  Felix  Mortimer;  and 
yet  he  looked  older  than  the  latter  by  two  or  three  years,  for 
he  wore  a  small  mustache  and  tiny  side  whiskers.  Seeing 
these  same  fellows  the  second  time,  and  noticing  that  they  were 
apparently  watching  him,  made  Herbert  feel  a  trifle  uneasy. 
But  he  was  not  easily  worried  or  frightened. 

Bob  Hunter  was  in,  as  on  the  previous  night,  and  very  glad 
he  seemed  at  his  friend's  good  success  in  getting  so  desirable 
a  position.  He  listened  to  Herbert's  story  of  the  contest  with 
much  interest,  and  then  added  thoughtfully  : 

"It  might  be  a  good  idea  to  look  out  for  that  feller  that 
seemed  to  get  down  on  you  so.  He  probably  knows  you  are 
a  stranger  in  the  city,  and— 

"  Do  you  think  there  is  any  danger?"  interrupted  Herbert. 

"  No,  I  can't  say  as  there  is  ;  but  he  might  think,  if  he 
could  get  you  out  of  the  way,  he  would  get  the  place  with  the 
banker.  You  said  he  was  disappointed." 

"  Yes,  he  showed  his  disappointment  very  much." 

"  Well,  nothing  may  come  of  it.  You  keep  your  eye  on 
me,  and  I'll  steer  you  through  all  right,  I  reckon." 

Herbert  was  upon  the  point  of  telling  Bob  his  suspicions 
about  the  two  fellows  that  seemed  to  be  shadowing  him,  and 
then  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  magnify  the  matter,  and 
work  himself  into  a  state  of  uneasiness  when  it  would  be  bet 
ter  to  give  it  no  thought  whatever.  Therefore  he  said  nothing 
to  the  newsboy  about  them. 

When  they  had  finished  dinner  a  little  later,  Bob  asked  him 
if  he  could  manage  to  pass  away  an  hour  or  so  alone. 

"  Certainly,  if  you  have  an  engagement,"  replied  Her 
bert. 

"  I    go   to  an  evening   school  ;    but   if    you'll   be   lonesome 


56  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

alone,  why,  I'll  stay  with  you  till  you  learn  a  thing-  or  two 
about  the  city." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  all  right,"  said  our  hero,  confidently. 
"  Don't  think  of  remaining  away  from  school  on  my  account. 
I  can  enjoy  looking  at  the  sights  here  in  the  Bowery  for  a 
while  ;  then  I  will  go  to  the  room,  and  read  till  you  come." 

"  All  right.  I'll  do  as  you  say  ;  but  now  you  look  out, 
Vermont,  and  don't  get  lost." 

Bob  seemed  to  have  a  fondness  for  calling  his  friend  by 
this  name,  and  the  latter  indulged  him  in  the  peculiarity  with 
out  objection. 

After  a  while,  young  Randolph  drifted  up  to  one  of  the 
Bowery  dime  museums,  and  stood  there  for  some  time  reading 
the  announcements,  looking  at  the  pictures,  and  watching  the 
crowd  that  ebbed  and  flowed  up  and  down  that  thoroughfare. 

Presently  a  young  fellow  of  about  his  own  age,  who  had 
for  some  time  been  standing  near  him,  made  a  casual  remark 
about  a  comical  looking  person  who  had  just  passed  by.  Our 
hero  looked  up,  and  seeing  that  the  remark  had  been  addressed 
to  him,  he  replied  promptly.  A  conversation  between  him  and 
the  stranofer  followed.  Herein  Herbert  showed  the  trustful- 

O 

ness  characteristic  of  a  country  boy.  He  knew  he  was  honest 
himself,  and  did  not  once  suspect  that  the  agreeable  young 
man  was  playing  the  confidence  game  upon  him. 


THE  BO  Y  BR OKER.  5  7 


CHAPTER     VII. 

BOB     HUNTER     THOROUGHLY     AROUSED. 

WHEN  Bob  Hunter  returned  from  the  evening  school  to 
his  room,  he  expected  to  find  young  Randolph 
there. 

"  He  promised  to  be  here,"  said  Bob  to  himself  ;  "  I  hope 
nothing  has  happened  to  him." 

The  newsboy's  manner  showed  some  alarm.  He  felt  anx 
ious  about  his  friend. 

"  Something  has  gone  wrong,  I  believe,  or  he  would  surely 
come,"  continued  Bob,  after  waiting  for  a  full  half  hour ;  "  but 
I  can't  imagine  what  has  steered  him  on  to  the  wrong  track." 

Another  half  hour  went  by,  and  Herbert  did  not  put  in  an 
appearance. 

"  I  might's  well  stay  here,  I  s'pose,  as  to  go  'n'  prowl  round 
this  town  huntin'  for  Vermont,"  said  Bob,  thoughtfully.  "  But 
I  guess  I'll  see  if  I  can  strike  his  trail.  Any  way  I'll  feel 
better,  'cause  I'll  know  I've  done  something.  It's  no  use  to  let 
a  feller  like  him  be  run  into  these  dens,  if  the  game  can  be 
stopped." 

An  hour's  fruitless  hunt,  in  and  about  the  Bowery,  failed 
to  reveal  Herbert's  whereabouts  to  the  anxious  searcher.  He 
was  unable  to  find  any  one  who  remembered  to  have  seen 
him. 


58  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

After  giving  up  all  hope  of  learning  what  he  wished  to  find 
out,  Bob  hurried  back  to  his  room,  with  a  feeling  of  anxiety 
quite  new  to  him.  He  had  taken  a  great  liking  to  our  hero, 
and  now  felt  thoroughly  alarmed,  fearing  that  foul  play  had 
been  brought  to  bear  upon  him. 

The  next  morning  he  was  up  bright  and  early,  looking 
sharply  after  his  paper  business,  but  he  was  not  the  Bob  Hun 
ter  of  the  past.  From  the  drollest  and  funniest  boy  in  the 
trade  he  had  suddenly  become  the  most  serious  and  thoughtful. 

"What's  hit  you  this  mornin',  Bob  ?"  said  Tom  Flannery,  a 
companion  newsboy. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  that  ?"  returned  Bob. 

"  Why,  you  look  like  you'd  had  a  fit  o'  sickness." 

"  You're  'bout  right,  for  I  don't  feel  much  like  myself,  no  how. 

I  didn't  get  no  sleep  hardly  at  all,  and  I've  worried  myself  thin 

—just  see  here,"  and  he  pulled  the  waistband  of  his  trousers 

out  till  there  was  nearly  enough  unoccupied  space  in  the  body 

of  them  to  put  in  another  boy  of  his  size. 

He  couldn't  resist  the  opportunity  for  a  joke,  this  comical 
lad,  not  even  now.  The  trousers  had  been  given  to  him  by  one 
of  his  customers,  a  man  of  good  size.  Bob  had  simply  short 
ened  up  the  legs,  so  naturally  there  was  quite  a  quantity  of 
superfluous  cloth  about  his  slim  body. 

"  Gewhittaker ! "  exclaimed  Tom,  "I  should  think  you  have 
fell  off !  But  say,  Bob,  what's  gone  bad  ?  What's  done  it  ?  " 
continued  Tom,  disposed  to  be  serious. 

"Well,  you  know  the  boy  I  told  you  about,  what's  chtim- 
min'  with  me?" 

"Yes,  the  one  I  saw  you  with  last  night,  I  s'pose  ? " 

"Yes,  the  same  one.     Well,  he  is  lost." 

"Lost!"  repeated  Tom,  incredulously. 


BOB    HUNTER,    AI.ONE    IX    HIS    ROOM,    WONDERS    WHAT    HAS    BECOME    OF   HIS    NEW    FRIEND. 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  6 1 

"  Yes;"  and  Bob  acquainted  him  with  the  facts  of  Herbert's 
disappearance.  "  Now,  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

•'  Looks  bad,"  said  young  Flannery,  gravely. 

"  So  it  does  to  me." 

"  Foul  play,"  suggested  Tom. 

"That's  what  I  think." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  got  tired  of  New  York  and  has  lit  out." 

"No,  not  much.      Vermont  ain't  no  such  boy." 

"  Well,  you  know  him  best.  Did  he  have  any  grip  or  any 
thing  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  had  a  good  suit  and  lots  of  other  truck." 

"And  they're  in  the  room  now?" 

"Yes." 

"You're  in  luck,  Bob.  I'd  like  a  chum  as  would  slope  and 
leave  me  a  good  suit." 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't.  No  more  would  you,  Tom  Flannery," 
said  Bob,  slightly  indignant. 

"  I  didn't  mean  nothin',"  said  Tom,  apologizing  for  the 
offense  which  he  saw  he  had  given.  "  Of  course,  I  wouldn't 
want  nobody  to  slope  and  leave  his  truck  with  me." 

"  That's  all  right  then,  Tom,"  said  Bob,  forgivingly. 
"'  But  now,  what  do  you  s'pose  has  become  of  him?" 

"  Well,  it  looks  like  he  didn't  go  of  his  own  free  will,  when 
he  left  everything  behind  him." 

"  Of  course  it  does,  and  I  know  he  didn't." 

Bob  related  the  story  of  Herbert's  experience  at  the  bank, 
on  the  morning  when  he  secured  the  position. 

"  I  don't  like  that  duffer — what  d'ye  call  him?" 

"  Felix  Mortimer,"  repeated  Bob.  "  I'm  sure  that's  the 
name  Herbert  give  me." 

"  Well,  I'll  bet  that  he's  put  up  the  job." 


62  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  think  so  myself.  You  see  he  knew  Randolph  wasn't  no 
city  chap." 

"  That's  so,  and  he  knew  he'd  have  the  drop  on  him.  But 
I  don't  just  see,  after  all,  how  he  could  get  away  with  him." 

"  Well,  he  irmrht  have  run  him  into  some  den  or  other." 

fj 

"And  drugged  him?" 

"  Well,  perhaps  so.  There  are  piles  of  ways  them  fellers 
have  of  doin'  such  jobs." 

"  I  know  they're  kinder  slick  about  it  sometimes.  But,  say, 
Bob,"  continued  Tom,  earnestly,  "what  do  you  propose  to  do- 
about  it?  He  may  be  a  prisoner." 

"  So  he  may,  and  probably  is,  if  he  is  alive." 

"  Why,  Bob,  they  wouldn't  kill  him,  would  they  ?" 

"No,  I  don't  suppose  so,  not  if  they  didn't  have  to." 

"Why  would  they  have  to  do  that?"  asked  Tom,  with  his 
eyes  bulging  out  with  excitement. 

"  Well,  sometimes  folks  has  to  do  so — them  hard  tickets  will 
do  'most  anything.  You  see,  if  they  start  in  to  make  way  with 
a  feller,  and  they  are  'fraid  he'll  blow  on  'em,  and  they  can't 
make  no  other  arrangement,  why  then  they  just  fix  him  so  he 
won't  never  blow  on  nobody." 

"  Bob,  it's  awful,  ain't  it  ?  "  said  Tom,  with  a  shudder. 

"  Yes,  it  is.  There  are  a  pile  of  tough  gangs  in  this  city 
that  don't  care  what  they  do  to  a  feller." 

"  What  do  you  s'pose  they've  done  with  your  chum  ?"  asked 
young  Flannery,  returning  to  the  subject. 

"  Well,  that's  just  what  I  wrant  to  know,"  said  Bob,  seriously. 
"  I  am  going  to  try  to  find  out,  too.  There  are  tough  dens  in 
them  cross  streets  running  out  of  the  Bowery." 

"  They  won't  do  worse  nor  keep  him  a  prisoner,  will  they, 
Bob  ?  " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  63 

"  Probably  they  won't,  not  'less  they  think  he  will  blow  on 
'em.  You  see  they've  got  to  look  out  for  themselves." 

"  That's  so,  Bob,  but  why  couldn't  they  send  him  off  some 
where  so  he  couldn't  blow  on  'em  ?  " 

"  They  might  do  that,  too." 

41  But  they  would  get  him  so  far  away  he  couldn't  get  back 
to  New  York  never,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  the  idea.  They  might  run  him  off  to  sea,  and 
put  him  on  an  island,  or  somethin'  like  that.  I  can't  say  just 
what  they  might  do  if  they  have  their  own  way.  But  the 
idea  is  this,  Tom  Flannery,  we  must  stop  Vw,"  said  Bob,  em 
phatically,  "  you  and  me.  We've  got  to  find  out  where  he 
is,  and  rescue  him." 

"  That's  the  boss  idea,  Bob,"  replied  Tom,  with  emphasis. 
*'  But  I  don't  see  just  how  we're  goin'  to  do  it,  do  you  ?  " 

41  Well,  no,  I  can't  see  the  whole  game,  not  now.  But  we 
must  commence,  and  when  we  get  a  few  points,  we  can  slide 
ahead  faster." 

"  I  wouldn't  know  how  to  commence." 

"  Well,  I  do  ;  I  thought  that  all  out  last  night,  and  I'm  only 
waiting  till  ten  o'clock.  Then  I'll  steer  for  the  bank  where 
Herbert  worked." 

"  Bob,  you  beat  all  the  boys  I  know  of,"  said  Tom,  eying 
him  with  admiration.  "  None  of  'em  would  ever  think  of  doin' 
the  things  you  do,  and  they  couldn't  do  'em  if  they  did,  that's 
all.  And  now  you're  goin'  to  do  the  detective  act  !  " 

Tom  stopped  short  here  with  a  jerk,  as  if  he  had  got  to  the 
end  of  his  rope,  and  took  a  long  breath.  To  "  do  the  detective 
act "  seemed  to  him  the  greatest  possible  triumph  for  a  boy  like 
himself.  He  looked  upon  his  companion,  therefore,  with  won 
der  and  admiration. 


64 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


Bob's  plans  for 
penetrating-  t  h  e 
mystery  had,  i  n  - 
deed,  been  care- 
fully  formed.  He 
fearlessly  under- 
took  an  enterprise 
from  which  most 
boys  would  have 
shrunk.  This  keen, 
bright  street  lad, 
however,  was  not  of 
the  shrinking  kind. 
He  did  not  turn 
away  from  encoun 
tering  dangers, even 
the  dangers  of  some 

O 

dreadful  den  i  n 
which  he  feared  our 
hero  was  now  a 
prisoner. 

During-  the  forenoon  he  visited  the  banking  house  of 
Richard  Goldwin  and  there  found  Felix  Mortimer  already  in 
stalled  in  Herbert's  place.  This  discovery  confirmed  his 
worst  fears  and  intensified  his  alarm  for  the  safety  of  his 
friend. 


TOM    KI.ANXEUY. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  65 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FELIX    MORTIMER    AT    THE    BANK. 

CAN  I  see  the  proprietor?"  said  a  boy  addressing  a  clerk 
at  the  counter  of  Richard  Goldwin's  bank.  It  was  the 
morning-  after  Herbert's  mysterious  disappearance. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  asked  the  clerk. 

"  Felix  Mortimer,"  answered  the  boy. 

"  Mr.  Goldwin  is  very  busy,"  replied  the  man  at  the 
counter. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  wait,"  said  Felix  ;  and  he  seated  himself 
in  a  chair  in  the  outer  office. 

In  a  little  while  Mr.  Goldwin  came  out  of  his  private  room, 
and,  seeing  young  Mortimer  there,  recognized  him. 

"  Good  morning,  young  man,"  said  he,  kindly. 

"  Good  morning,"  returned  Felix,  deferentially. 

"  Have  you  come  to  tell  us  what  has  become  of  young 
Randolph  ? "  asked  the  banker. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Felix,  innocently.  "  I  came 
because  you  asked  me  to  do  so." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  remember  ;  but  I  referred  to  the  disappearance 
of  the  boy  I  engaged  at  the  time  you  applied  for  the  po 
sition." 

"  Why,  isn't  he  here  ?  "  asked  Mortimer,  feigning  surprise. 

"  No,  he  hasn't  been  here  today." 


6o  T1IH  BOY  KR ( )A'/:A>. 

"  What  do  you  imagine  is  the  trouble  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  unless,  like  so  many  other  boys,  he  has 
got  tired  of  the  work,  and  has  left  it  for  some  other  position." 

"  That  may  be,  and  now  you  speak  of  it,  I  remember  he 
said,  the  morning  we  were  all  waiting  to  see  you,  that  if  he 
failed  to  get  this  place  he  had  another  position  in  view  that  he 
could  get,  and  that  it  would  pay  him  five  dollars  a  week." 

Youne  Mortimer  told  this  falsehood  with  the  ease  of  a  vet- 

<"> 

eran.  His  manner  could  not  have  been  more  impressive  had 
he  been  telling  the  truth. 

"  Five  dollars  a  week  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  And  he 
came  here  for  three.  I  don't  see  what  his  motive  was." 

"  Perhaps  he  had  a  motive,"  suggested  Mortimer. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  replied  the  banker. 

Felix  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Do  you  know  anything  about  him  ?" 
pursued  Mr.  Goldwin,  his  suspicions  aroused. 

"No,  sir — er — not  much." 

"  Speak  up,  young  man.  Tell  me  what  you  know  about 
this  young  Vermonter." 

"Vermonter?"  repeated  Felix,  with  a  rising  inflection; 
and  he  smiled  suggestively. 

"  Yes,  Vermonter.  Do  you  know  anything  to  the  con 
trary  ?  " 

"You  know  I  was  an  applicant  for  this  position,  Mr.  Gold- 
win,  so  I  do  not  like  to  answer  your  question.  I  hope  you 
will  excuse  me." 

"  I  appreciate  your  sense  of  honor,  young  man,"  said  Mr. 
Goldwin  ;  "  but  it  is  to  my  interest  to  know  the  facts.  If  there 
is  anything  against  him,  I  should  be  informed  of  it.  Tell  me 
what  you  know,  and  you  will  lose  nothing  by  doing  so." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  67 

With  apparent  reluctance,  Felix  yielded  to  the  persuasion, 
and  said  : 

"  I  was  on  Broadway  with  a  friend  of  mine,  at  the  close  of 
business  hours,  the  clay  that  you  hired  this  young  fellow.  We 
were  walking-  along  by  the  Herald  building  when  he  came  up 
Broadway  and  stopped  to  read  the  news  on  the  Telegram  bul 
letin  board.  I  said  to  my  friend,  with  surprise,  '  There  is  the 
fellow  I  told  you  about — the  one  that  beat  me  this  morning  in 
getting  the  position  at  Goldwin's.'  He  looked  at  me  incredu 
lously  and  said  :  '  Why,  you  told  me  he  was  a  country  boy— 
from  Vermont.' 

"  '  So  he  is,'  I  replied.  '  Stuff,'  said  he.  '  I  know  him 
well.  That  was  a  clever  dodge  to  play  the  country  act.'  I 
protested,  but  he  convinced  me  that  he  was  right.  He  is  in  a 
lawyer's  office,  so  he  has  to  be  in  court  more  or  less,  and  he 
baid  he  saw  him  up  before  Judge  Duffy  only  a  few  days  ago, 
charged  with  stealing  a  pocket  book.  The  suspicion  was 
strong  against  him,  but  there  wasn't  proof  enough  to  fix  the 

O  <->  1  O 

theft  upon  him.  The  Court  came  near  sending  him  to  the 
Island,  though,  for  he  had  been  arrested  twice  before,  so  my 
friend  said." 

"The  young  villain  !"  said  the  banker,  when  Felix  had  fin 
ished  this  black  falsehood,  which  he  told  so  glibly,  and  with 
such  seeming  reluctance,  that  Mr.  Goldwin  accepted  it  as  all 
truth.  "  I  am  sorry  I  ever  took  him  into  my  office,"  he  con 
tinued.  "  I  must  have  the  bank  carefully  looked  over,  to  see  if 
he  misappropriated  anything,  as  he  very  likely  did." 

Felix  said  nothing,  but  seemed  to  look  sorry  for  Herbert. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  after  a  pause,  "  is  it  too  late  to 
get  you  ? " 

"  I    don't    know,"    answered    Mortimer,    hesitatingly.       "  I 


68  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

would  like  to  work  for  you,  but  would  not  feel  right  to  take 
the  position  away  from  this  Vermonter." 

Felix  laid  a  special  stress  upon  the  word  "Vermonter." 

"Take  it  away  from  him!"  replied  the  banker,  scornfully. 
"  He  cannot  enter  this  bank  again." 

"  But  you  see  I  would  feel  that  I  am  the  means  of  keeping 
him  out  of  the  position.  You  wouldn't  have  known  about  his 
deception  if  I  hadn't  told  you." 

Felix  now  used  the  word  "  deception  "  flippantly,  and  with 
no  further  apparent  apology  for  applying  it  to  our  hero. 

"That  is  all  right,"  replied  Mr.  Golclwin  ;  "I  am  glad  to 
see  you  sensitive  about  injuring  another.  It  is  much  to  your 
credit  that  you  feel  as  you  do  about  it." 

"Thank  you,"  was  the  modest  reply.  "Then  if  you  think 
it  would  look  right,  and  you  really  want  me,  I  will  take  the 
position." 

"  Of  course  we  can  get  hundreds  and  thousands  of  boys, 
but  I  have  taken  a  liking  to  you.  When  can  you  com 
mence?" 

"  I  can  commence  this  morning,  if  you  wish  me  to,"  said 
Felix. 

"  Very  well,  I  wish  you  would — er,  that  is  if  you  feel  able. 
I  notice  your  face  is  swollen,  and  perhaps  you  are  not  feeling 
well." 

"  Oh,  that  will  not  bother  me,"  replied  Mortimer,  coolly. 
"I  had  a  tooth  filled  yesterday,  and  have  got  cold  in  my  jaw." 

"You  must  suffer  with  it.  It  is  swollen  badly  and  looks 
red  and  angry,"  said  the  banker  sympathetically. 

"  It  does  hurt  a  good  deal,  but  will  not  trouble  me  about 
my  work." 

"  It   looks   as  if    the  skin  had  been   injured — more   like   a 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  69 

bruise,  as  if  you  had  received  a  heavy  blow  on  your  jaw,"  said 
Mr.  Goldwin,  examining  the  swelling  more  closely. 

Felix  colored  perceptibly,  but  immediately  rallied,  and  said 
the  poulticing  had  given  it  that  appearance. 

Could  Mr.  Goldwin  have  known  the  truth  about  this  in 
jured  jaw,  he  would  have  been  paralyzed  at  the  bold  falsehood 
of  the  young  villain  before  him. 

He  had  succeeded  admirably  in  blackening  our  young  hero's 
reputation.  Mr.  Goldwin  now  looked  upon  Herbert  with  ill 
favor,  and  even  disgust.  And  this  change  was  all  caused  by 
the  cunning  and  falsehoods  of  young  Mortimer.  He  had 
poisoned  Mr.  Goldwin's  mind,  and  thus  succeeded  in  establish 
ing  himself  in  the  banker's  good  opinion  and  securing  the 
coveted  position. 

"  Another  boy  wants  to  see  you,  Mr.  Goldwin,"  said  the 
clerk,  shortly  after  the  man  of  finance  had  engaged  young 
Mortimer. 

"  You  may  show  him  in,"  said  the  banker. 

The  door  opened,  and  Bob  Hunter  stepped  into  Mr.  Gold- 
win's  presence.  If  he  had  only  had  a  bundle  of  newspapers 
under  his  arm,  he  would  have  felt  quite  at  home  ;  but,  as  he 
had  nothing  of  the  kind,  he  was  a  trifle  embarrassed. 

o 

"  What    do    you   want   here  ? "   askecl    Mr.    Goldwin,  more 

•/ 

sharply  than  was  his  wont. 

"  I  come  down,  sir,  to  see  if  you  can  tell  me  anything  about 
Herbert  Randolph." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  know  about  him  ?" 

"  I  want  to  know  where  he  is.  He  hain't  shown  up  not 
sence  last  night." 

"  Was  he  a  friend  of  yours  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  me  and  him  roomed  together." 


7o  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  You  and  he  roomed  together  ?  "  repeated  the  banker,  as 
if  he  doubted  Bob's  word. 

"  That's  what  I  said,  sir,"  answered   the   newsboy,  showing 

•*  t_> 

his  dislike  of  the  insinuation  against  his  truthfulness. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  inclined  to  be  stufty,  young  man,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  I  am  unable,  however,  to  give  you  the 
information  you  seek." 

"  You  don't  know  where  he  is,  then  ?" 

"  Xo,  I  have  not  seen  him  since  he  left  here  last  ni<jht." 

o 

"  Do  you  know  why  he  is  stayin'  away?" 
"  Certainly  I  do  not." 

"  Done  nothin'  wrong,  I  s'pose?"  queried  Bob. 
"  I  have  not  fixed  any  wrong  upon  him  yet." 
"  Then,  if  he  hain't  done  no  wrong,  somethin's  keepin'  him." 
"He  may  have  a  motive  in  staying  away,"  said  the  banker, 
becoming  interested  in  Bob's  keen  manner. 

o 

"  What  do  you  s'pose  his  motive  is  ?" 

"  That  I  cannot  tell." 

"  Foul  play,  that's  what  I  think." 

"  Nonsense,  boy." 

"  I  don't  think  there's  no  nonsense  about  it.  I  know  he 
wouldn't  light  out  jest  for  fun,  not  much.  Herbert  Randolph 
wasn't  no  such  a  feller.  He  didn't  have  no  money,  'n'  he  had 
to  work.  Me  an'  him  had  a  room  together,  as  I  said,  an'  his 
things  are  in  the  room  now." 

"  When  did  you  see  him  last?"  said  Mr.  Goldwin. 

Bob  explained  all  about  Herbert's  disappearance,  but  was 
careful  to  say  nothing  about  his  suspicions  pointing  to  Felix 
Mortimer.  He  saw  the  latter  in  the  outer  office  as  he  entered, 
and  he  thought  policy  bade  him  keep  his  suspicions  to  himself 
for  the  present. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  You  tell  a  straightforward  story,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Gold- 
win,  "but  I  cannot  think  there  has  been  any  foul  play.  In 
fact,  I  have  heard  something  against  this  young  Randolph  that 
makes  me  distrust  him.  \Yere  it  not  for  this,  I  should  feel 

more  interest  in 
your  story,  and 
would  do  all  in  my 
power  to  try  and 
find  him." 

"  I  don't  believe 
there's  nothing 
against  him.  He's 
an  honest  boy,  if  I 
know  one  when  I 
see  him.  He  liked 
you  and  his  work, 
and  them  that 
speaks  against  him 
is  dishonest  them 
selves.  That's  what 
I  think  about  it." 

"  But  that  is 
only  your  opinion. 
Certainly  he  does  not  appear  in  a  favorable  light  at  the  pres 
ent  time." 

Presently  Bob  departed  from  the  bank.  He  had  learned 
all  he  expected,  and  even  more.  He  knew  now  that  Felix 
Mortimer  was  in  Herbert's  place,  that  Mr.  Goldwin  had  been 
influenced  against  his  friend  by  what  he  believed  to  be  false 
hoods,  and  that  Herbert's  whereabouts  was  as  much  a  mystery 
at  the  bank  as  to  himself. 


BOB    HUNTER    SPEAKS    UP    FOR    HERBERT. 


72  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

These  facts  pointed  suspiciously  to  Felix  Mortimer.  Who 
else  could  want  to  get  Herbert  out  of  the  way  ?  Bob  argued. 
Having  thus  settled  the  matter  in  his  own  mind,  he  was  ready 
to  commence  testing  his  theories. 

"Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob,  when  he  had  returned  from 
Wall  Street,  "  I've  struck  the  trail." 

"No,  you  hain't,  Bob,  not  so  quick  as  this? "said  Tom, 
with  surprise. 

Bob  explained  what  he  had  learned  at  the  bank. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  want  you,  Tom,  to  look  out  for  my 
business  tonight.  Get  some  kid  to  help  you,  and  mind  you 
see  he  does  his  work  right." 

"  What  you  goin'  to  do,  Bob  ?" 

"  I'm  going  to  lay  round  Wall  Street  till  that  Mortimer 
feller  comes  outer  the  bank." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  You  hain't  goin'  to  knock  him  out, 
are  you,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Shucks,  Tom,  you  wouldn't  make  no  kind  of  a  detective. 
Of  course  I  wouldn't  do  that.  Why,  that  would  spoil  the 
whole  game." 

"Well,  then,  what  are  you  goin'  to  do?" 

"  Why,  I'll  do  just  as  any  detective  would — follow  him,  of 
course." 

"Is  that  the  way  they  do  it,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Some  of  'em  do,  when  they  have  a  case  like  this  one." 

"  This  is  a  gosh  fired  hard  one,  ain't  it,  Bob  ? " 

"  Well,  'tain't  no  boy's  play — not  a  case  like  this  one." 

"  So  you're  goin'  to  foller  him  ?  I  wish  I  could  go  with 
you,  Bob/' 

"  But,  you  see,  you  must  sell  papers.  I'll  want  you  to 
help  me  later,  when  I  get  the  case  well  worked  up." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  73 

"  It'll  be  too  big  for  one  detective  then,  I  s'pose  ?" 

"  That's  the  idea,  Tom.  Then  I'll  call  you  in,"  said  Bob, 
with  the  swell  of  a  professional. 

"I  wish  'twas  all  worked  up,  Bob,  so  you'd  want  to  call  me 
in  now,  as  you  call  it.  It'll  be  exciting,  won't  it?" 

"  Well,  I  should  think  it  would,  before  we  get  through 
with  it." 

"Say,  Bob,  will  there  be  any  fightin'?"  asked  Tom,  eagerly. 
He  was  already  excited  over  the  prospects. 

"  Can't  say  that  now — hain't  got  the  case  worked  up 
enough  to  tell.  'Tain't  professional  to  say  too  much  about  a 
case.  None  of  the  detectives  does  it,  and  why  should  I?  That's 
what  I  want  to  know,  Tom  Flannery." 

"Well,  you  shouldn't,  Bob,  if  the  rest  doesn't  do  it." 

"Of  course  not.  It's  no  use  to  be  a  detective,  unless  the 
job  is  done  right  and  professional.  I  believe  in  throwin'  some 
style  into  anything  like  this.  'Tain't  often,  you  know,  Tom, 
when  a  feller  gets  a  real  genuine  case  like  this  one.  Why, 
plenty  er  boys  might  make  believe  they  had  cases,  but  they'd 
be  baby  cases — only  baby  cases,  Tom  Flannery,  when  you'd 
compare  'em  with  this  one — a  real  professional  case." 

"  I  don't  blame  you  for  bein'  proud,  Bob,"  said  Tom,  admir 
ingly.  "  I  only  wish  I  had  such  a  case." 

"  Why,  you've  got  it  now  ;  you're  on  it  with  me,  hain't 
you  ?  Don't  you  be  silly  now,  Tom.  You'll  get  all  you  want 
before  you  get  through  with  this  case ;  an',  when  it's  all  pub 
lished  in  the  papers,  your  name  will  be  printed  with  mine." 

"  Gewhittaker !"  exclaimed  Tom;  "I  didn't  think  of  that 
before.  Will  our  names  really  be  printed,  Bob?" 

"  Why,  of  course  they  will.  Detectives'  names  are  always 
printed,  hain't  they  ?  You  make  me  tired,  Tom  Flannery.  I 


74  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

should    think    you'd    know    better.      Don't    make    yourself    so 
redickerlous  by  askin'  any  more   questions  like  that.      But   just 
you  tend  to  business,  and   you'll  get   all  the  glory  you  want- 
professional  glory,  too." 

"  It'll  beat  jumpin'  off  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  won't  it?"  said 
Tom. 

"  Well,  if  you  ain't  an  idiot,  Tom  Flannery,  I  never  saw 
one.  To  think  of  comparin'  a  detective  with  some  fool  that 
wants  cheap  notoriety  like  that!  You  just  wait  till  you  see 
your  name  in  big  letters  in  the  papers  along  with  mine.  It'll 
be  Bob  Hunter  and  Tom  Flannery." 

Tom's  eyes  bulged  out  with  pride  at  the  prospect.  He  had 
never  before  realized  so  fully  his  own  importance. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  75 


CHAPTER   IX. 

BOB     ASSUMES     A     DISGUISE. 

A  T  the  close  of  business  hours,  Felix  Mortimer  sauntered 
j^\_  up  Broadway  with  something  of  an  air  of  triumph  about 
him.  His  jaw  was  still  swollen,  and  doubtless  pained  him  not 
a  little. 

Another  boy  passed  up  Broadway  at  the  same  time,  and 
only  a  little  way  behind  Mortimer. 

It  was  Bob  Hunter,  and  he  managed  to  keep  the  same  dis 
tance  between  himself  and  young  Mortimer,  whom,  in  fact,  he 
was  "shadowing."  Of  course,  Mortimer  knew  nothing  of 
this.  In  fact,  he  did  not  know  such  a  boy  as  Bob  Hunter 
existed. 

At  the  post  office  Felix  Mortimer  turned  into  Park  Row. 
He  stopped  and  read  the  bulletins  at  the  Mail  and  Express 
office.  Then  he  bought  an  evening  paper,  and,  standing  on 
the  steps  of  the  World  office,  looked  it  over  hastily. 

Now  he  moved  on  up  Publishers'  Row,  passing  the  Times, 
the  Tribune,  and  the  Sun  buildings,  and  walked  along  Chat 
ham  Street.  Presently  he  emerged  into  the  Bowery.  Now  he 
walked  more  rapidly  than  he  had  been  doing,  so  that  Bob  had 
to  quicken  his  pace  to  keep  him  in  sight. 

At  the  corner  of  Pell  Street  and  the  Bowery  he  met  a 
young  man  who  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  him. 


76  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I've  been  hanging  round  here  for  'most  half  an  hour."  said 

<j>        o 

he,  as  if  displeased. 

"I'm  here  on  time,"  replied  Felix;  "just  half  past  five. 
Come,  let's  have  a  glass  of  beer." 

Peter  Smartweed  was  the  name  of  this  young-  fellow,  as 
Bob  afterwards  found  out. 

When  Felix  and  his  friend  passed  into  the  drinking  saloon, 
Bob  followed  them  as  far  as  the  door  ;  then  he  turned  back, 
and  sought  the  disguise  of  a  bootblack. 

A  young  knight  of  the  brush  stood  near  by,  with  his  black 
ing  box  slung-  over  his  shoulder.  Bob  arranged  with  him  for 

£><:!>  £> 

the  use  of  it  for  a  few  moments,  promising  to  pay  over  to  him 
all  the  proceeds  he  made  thereby.  He  also  exchanged  his  own 
hat  for  the  cap  the  boy  had  on,  and,  with  this  head  gear  pulled 
down  over  the  left  side  of  his  face,  the  appearance  of  Bob 
Hunter  was  much  changed.  His  accustomed  step,  quick,  firm, 
and  expressive,  was  changed  to  that  of  the  nerveless,  aimless 
boy — a  sort  of  shuffle. 

Thus  disguised,  he  approached  Felix  Mortimer  and  his 
companion,  who  were  sitting  at  a  table  with  a  partially  filled 
schooner  of  beer  before  each  of  them. 

"  Shine?  shine,  boss?"  said  Bob,  in  a  strange  voice. 

No  response  was  made  by  the  convivial  youths. 

"Two  for  five!"  continued  Bob,  persistently.  "Two 
reg'lar  patent  leathers  for  only  five  cents  !  " 

Peter  looked  at  his  boots.  They  were  muddy.  Then  he 
argued  with  himself  that  Felix  had  paid  for  the  beer,  so  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  could  not  even  up  the  score  in  any 
less  expensive  way  than  by  paying  for  the  shines. 

"  Do  you  mean  you  will  give  us  both  a  shine  for  five 
cents  ?  "  said  Peter. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


77 


Mort,  and  shine 


"  Yes,"  drawled  Bob,  lazily. 

"  Well,  see  that  they  are  good  ones,  now,  or  I'll  not  pay  you 
a  cent." 

Bob  commenced  work  on  the  shoes  very  leisurely.  He 
seemed  the  embodiment  of  stupidity,  and  blundered  along  in 
every  way  possible  to  prolong  the  time. 

"  How    would   you    like   to   climb    down, 
shoes    for    a     liv 
ing?"    said    Peter 

Smartweed,      jok-  !:Ua^;'   -; 

ingly. 

"Perhaps  I 
wouldn't  mind  it 
if  I  was  stupid  as 
the  kid  fumbling 
around  your  shoes 
seems  to  be,"  re 
plied  Felix,  in  a 
more  serious  mood 
than  his  compan 
ion. 

"  Well,  I  think 
you  looked  even 
more  stupid  than 
this  young  Arab  last  night,  when  you  lay  upon  the  floor." 

"  Well,  I  guess  you  would  have  felt  stupid,  too,  if  you 
had  got  such  a  clip  as  I  did,"  retorted  Felix,  as  he  nursed 
his  swollen  jaw  with  his  hand. 

"  It  was  a  stunning  blow,  for  a  fact.  John  L.  Sullivan 
couldn't  have  done  it  neater.  I  didn't  think,  Mort,  that  that 
young  countryman  could  hit  such  a  clip,  did  you?" 


BOB    HUNTER    PI.AYS    THE    DETECTIVE. 


78  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"No,  I  didn't  ;  and  I'm  mighty  sure  you  don't  realize  now 
what  a  stinging  blow  he  hit  me.  You  talk  about  it  as  if  it 
didn't  amount  to  much.  Well,  all  I've  got  to  say  is,  I  don't 
want  to  see  you  mauled  so,  but  I  wish  you  knew  how  good  it 
felt  to  be  floored  the  way  I  was." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Peter  ;  "  I  don't  want  any  of  it.  But 
you  looked  so  comical,  as  you  fell  sprawling,  that  I  couldn't 
help  laughing.  I  believe  I  would  have  laughed  if  you  had 
been  killed." 

Bob  Hunter's  ears  were  now  wide  open. 

"  I  couldn't  see  anything  to  laugh  about,"  said  Felix,  bit 
terly. 

"  That  isn't  very  strange,  either.  You  naturally  wouldn't, 
under  the  circumstances,"  laughed  young  Smartweed. 

"  Come,  now,  letup,"  said  Felix.      "Your  turn  may  come." 

"  I  expect  it  will,  if  this  young  farmer  ever  gets  after  me." 

"  But  you  don't  expect  him  to  get  out,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  hadn't  thought  much  about  it.  My  part  of  the  pro 
gramme  was  to  get  him  into  old  Gunwagner's  den,  and  I  did  it 
without  any  accident." 

Felix  looked  hard  at  his  companion.  He  knew  the  last 
part  of  this  sentence  wras  a  sarcastic  thrust  at  him. 

Bob  grew  excited,  and  found  it  difficult  to  restrain  himself. 
He  felt  certain  now  that  these  two  young  villains  were  talking 
about  his  friend  Herbert  Randolph. 

"No  accident  would  have  happened  to  me,  either,  if  he 
hadn't  hit  me  unawares,"  protested  young  Mortimer,  with  a  bit 
of  sourness  about  his  manner.  "  I  allow  I  could  get  away  with 
him  in  a  fair  fight." 

"Oh,  no,  you  couldn't,  Mort ;  he  is  too  much  for  you.  I 
could  see  that  in  a  minute,  by  the  way  he  handled  himself." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  79 

Young  Mortimer's  face  flushed.  He  didn't  like  the  com 
parison. 

"  Well,  he  won't  bother  me  again  very  soon,"  said  he,  vin 
dictively. 

"Didn't  they  tumble  to  anything  crooked  at  the  bank?" 
asked  Peter,  after  a  few  moments'  serious  thought. 

"  No." 

"  I  don't  see  why.     The  circumstances  look  suspicious." 

"Well,  they  didn't  suspect  the  truth." 

"You're  in  luck,  then,  that  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

"  I  shall  be,  you  mean,  when  we  get  him  out  of  the  way." 

"He  seems  to  be  pretty  well  out  of  your  way  now." 

"  But  that  won't  last  forever.  He  must  be  got  out  of  New 
York,  that's  all.  Old  Gunwagner  will  not  keep  him  round  very 
long,  you  may  be  sure  of  that." 

"You  don't  know  how  to  shine  a  shoe,"  growled  Smartweed 
to  our  young  detective.  "  See  the  blacking  you  have  put  on 
the  upper  !  Wipe  it  off,  I  say  ;  at  once,  too." 

Bob's  blood  boiled  with  indignation,  and  he  was  about  to 
reply  sharply,  when  he  remembered  that  he  was  now  acting  the 
detective,  and  so  he  said  : 

"All  right,  boss;  I'll  fix  it  fer  yer ; "  and  he  removed  the 
superfluous  blacking  with  great  care.  There  was  no  longer 
any  doubt  in  his  mind  about  Herbert  being  a  prisoner.  He 
was  satisfied  that  his  friend  was  in  the  clutches  of  old  Gunwagf- 

O 

ner,  and  he  knew  from  the  conversation  that  he  was  in  danger 
of  being  lost  forever  to  New  York  and  to  his  friends. 

The  situation  was  an  alarming  one.  Bob  pictured  vividly 
the  worst  possibilities  of  our  hero's  fate. 

Presently,  after  young  Smartweed  had  lighted  a  cigarette 
and  taken  a  few  puffs,  he  said,  absentmindedly  : 


So  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  So  you  are  going  to  send  him  away  from  New  York  ?  " 
"  Of  course,  you   don't   s'pose  we  would  be  very  safe  with 
him  here,  do  you  ? "  replied  Mortimer. 

"Safe  enough,  so  long  as  he  is  in  old  Gunwagner's  cell. 
But  what  is  to  be  done  with  him?  Send  him  back  to  Ver 
mont  ? " 

"  Not  much  ;  he  won't  go  there  unless  he  escapes." 
"  It's  rough  on  the  fellow,  Mort,  to  run   him  off  to  sea,  or 
to  make  him  a  prisoner  in  the  bottom  of  a  coal  barge  or  canal 
boat.      But    that   is   what    he    is   likely   to    get   from   that   old 
shark,"  said  Peter  Smartweed,  meaning  Gunwa^ner. 

<r>  O 

"  Don't  you  get  soft  hearted  now,"  replied  Felix,  in  a  hard 
voice. 

"  I'm  not  soft  hearted,  Mort,  and  you  know  it,  but  I  don't 
like  this  business,  any  way." 

"What  did  you  go  into  it  for,  then  ?  " 

"  What  do  we  do  anything  for?  I  thought,  from  what  you 
said,  that  he  was  a  coarse  young  countryman.  But  he  don't 
seem  like  it.  In  fact  I  believe  he  is  too  nice  a  fellow  to  be 
ruined  for  life." 

"  Perhaps  you'd  better  get  him  out  then,"  said  Mortimer, 
sarcastically. 

"  You  talk  like  a  fool,"  replied  Smartweed,  testily. 

"  So  do  you,"  retorted  his  companion,  firing  up ;  and  he 
nursed  his  aching  jaw  as  if  to  lend  emphasis  to  his  remarks. 
These  explosions  suddenly  ended  the  discussion,  and  as  soon 
as  their  shoes  were  polished,  the  two  young  villains  left  the 
saloon.  Mortimer  turned  up  the  Bowery,  and  Smartweed 
passed  into  a  side  street  leading  towards  Broadway. 

Bob  readily  dropped  his  assumed  character  of  bootblack, 
and  quickly  started  in  pursuit  of  Felix  Mortimer. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  81 

The  latter  went  directly  home,  where  he  remained  for 
nearly  an  hour.  At  the  end  of  this  time,  he  emerged  from  the 
house,  much  to  the  young  detective's  relief.  He  had  waited 
outside  all  this  time,  patiently  watching  for  Felix's  reappear 
ance. 

Though  cold  and  hungry,  Bob  could  not  afford  to  give  up 
the  chase  long  enough  even  to  get  a  bit  of  lunch.  He  had 
made  wonderful  progress  so  far  in  his  detective  work,  and  he 
felt,  as  he  had  a  right  to  feel,  highly  elated  over  his  discov 
eries. 

Now  he  was  shadowing  young  Mortimer  again.  Down 
the  Bowery  they  went  till  they  came  to  a  side  street  in  a  dis 
reputable  locality.  Here  they  turned  towards  the  East  River, 
and  presently  Felix  Mortimer  left  the  sidewalk  and  disappeared 
within  the  door  of  an  old  building. 

"  So  this  is  Gunwagner's,  is  it  ?"  said  Bob  to  himself.      "  At 
least  I  s'pose  'tis,  from  what   them  fellers  said — Gunwagner— 
yes,  that's  the  name.      Well,  this  may  not  be  it,  but  I'm  pretty 
sure  it  is,"  he  continued,  reasoning  over  the  problem. 

After  fixing  the  house  and  its  locality  securely  in  his  mind, 
and  after  having  waited  till  he  satisfied  himself  that  Mortimer 
intended  remaining  there  for  a  time,  he  made  a  lively  trip  to 
City  Hall  Park,  where  he  joined  young  Flannery. 

"  Well,  Bob,  have  you  struck  anything  ? "  said  Tom,  in 
stantly,  and  with  much  more  than  a  passing  interest. 

"  Yes  ;  I've  struck  it  rich — -reg'lar  detective  style,  I  tell 
you,  Tom,"  said  Bob,  with  pride  and  enthusiasm.  And  then 
he  briefly  related  all  his  discoveries. 

"  Nobody  could  er  \vorked  the  business  like  you,  Bob," 
said  Tom,  admiringly. 

"Well,  I  did  throw  a  little  style  into  it,  I  think  myself,"  re- 


82  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

plied  Bob.  "But,"  he  continued,  "there's  no  time  now  for 
talking  the  matter  over.  We've  got  some  work  to  do.  I've 
got  the  place  located,  and  I  want  you  to  go  with  me  now,  and 
see  what  we  can  do." 

Within  five  minutes  the  two  boys  were  on  their  way  to 
Christopher  Gunwagner's,  and  as  they  passed  hurriedly  along 
the  streets  they  formed  a  hasty  plan  for  immediate  action — a 
plan  cunningly  devised  for  outwitting  this  miserable  old  fence 
and  his  villainous  companions. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  83 


CHAPTER  X. 

SOMETHING    ABOUT    HERBERT    RANDOLPH. 

HAD  our  young  hero  been  more  wary,  he  would  not  have 
so  easily  fallen  a  victim  to  the  deceit  of  the  genial 
stranger  whom  he  met  on  the  Bowery.  He  should  have  been 
more  cautious,  and  less  ready  to  assume  friendly  relations  with 
a  stranger.  His  lack  of  prudence  in  this  respect  was  almost 
inexcusable,  inasmuch  as  he  had  been  warned  by  Bob  Hunter  to 
look  out  for  himself.  Moreover,  his  suspicions  should  have 
been  excited  by  the  two  young  fellows  he  saw  on  Wall  Street, 
who  appeared  to  be  shadowing  him. 

But  none  of  these  prudential  thoughts  seemed  to  occur  to 
young  Randolph.  In  Vermont,  he  spoke  to  every  one  with  a 
frank,  open  confidence.  He  had  always  done  so  from  his  earli 
est  recollections.  Others  in  his  locality  did  the  same.  Unre 
strained  social  intercourse  was  the  universal  custom  of  the 
people.  Habit  is  a  great  power  in  one's  life.  It  guided  our 
hero  on  this  fatal  night,  and  he  talked  freely  and  confidentially 
with  his  new  acquaintance. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  one  of  these  Bowery  museums  ? " 
asked  the  genial  young  man,  after  they  had  chatted  for  a  little 
time. 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  replied  Herbert,  in  a  hesitating  manner 
that  implied  his  desire  to  enter. 


84  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

This  youn^r  nian  was  the  same  one  whose  boots  Bob  Hun- 

J  O 

ter  blackened  when  he  was  acting  the  detective,  otherwise 
Peter  Smartweed. 

The  latter  smiled  at  the  readiness  with  which  young  Ran 
dolph  caught  at  the  bait. 

"  Well,  you  have  missed  a  treat,"  said  he,  with  assumed 
surprise. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  replied  Herbert,  feeling  that  his  educa 
tion  had  been  neglected. 

"  They  have  some  wonderful  curiosities  in  some  of  these 
museums,"  continued  the  young  confidence  scamp. 

"So  I  should  think,  from  the  looks  of  these  pictures." 

"  But  this  is  the  poorest  museum  on  the  Bowery.  There 
are  some  great  curiosities  in  some  of  them,  and  a  regular  show." 

o  o 

"  Have  you  been  in  all  of  them  ?  "  asked  Herbert. 

"  Oh,  yes,  dozens  of  times.  Why,  I  can  go  into  one  of 
the  museums  whenever  I  like,  without  paying  a  cent,  and  it  is 
the  best  one  in  New  York." 

"Can  you  ?  "  said  Herbert,  with  surprise.  "  I  wish  I  could 
go  in  free." 

"  I  can  fix  that  for  you  all  right,"  said  Peter,  magnani 
mously.  "  I  often  take  a  friend  in  \vith  me." 

'•'  And  it  doesn't  cost  you  anything  ?  " 

"  No,  not  a  cent.  If  you  like,  we  will  stroll  down  the 
Bowery,  and  drop  in  for  a  little  while.  By  the  way,  I  remem 
ber  now  that  a  new  curiosity,  a  three  headed  woman,  is  on 
exhibition  there." 

"A  three  headed  woman  !"  exclaimed  Herbert  ;  "she  must 
be  a  wonderful  sight ! " 

"  So  she  is.  Come  on,  let's  go  and  see  her.  It  is  not  down 
very  far.  You  have  nothing  to  do,  I  suppose  ? " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  85 

"  No,  only  to  pass  the  time  away  for  an  hour  or  so." 

"  Very  well,  then,  you  can't  pass  it  in  any  more  agreeable 
way  than  this,  I  am  sure." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  replied  Herbert,  as  they  moved  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  supposed  museum.  He  had  no  thought  of 
danger,  as  he  walked  along  with  his  new  friend,  happy  in  an 
ticipation  of  the  pleasure  before  him.  Could  he,  however,  have 
realized  that  he  was  the  victim  of  a  shrewd  confidence  game, 
that  every  step  he  now  took  was  bringing  him  nearer  to  the 
trap  that  had  been  set  for  him  by  cruel,  unscrupulous  villains, 
how  his  whole  being  would  have  re 
volted  against  the  presence  of  the  un 
principled  fellow  beside  him,  who  was 
now  coolly  leading  him  on  to  his  ruin. 

Presently  they 
turned  up  a  side 
street,  and  soon 
stopped  before  a 
low,  ugly  building. 

"The  museum 
is  on  the  next 

A    SURPRISE    FOR    FELIX    MORTIMER. 

street,"    remarked 

young  Smartweed,  as  he  rang  the  bell  three  times.  "  We 
have  to  walk  through  this  court,  to  reach  it  by  the  back  pas 
sage." 

Still  Herbert's  suspicions  slumbered. 

And  now  the  catch  to  the  door  was  pulled  back,  and  our 
unfortunate  hero  and  his  companion  passed  in.  The  hallway 
was  ominously  dark.  They  groped  their  way  forward  till  a 
second  door  was  reached,  and  here  the  leader  knocked  three 
times,  then  paused  for  a  moment  and  knocked  once  more. 


86  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

After  a  brief  interval  three  more  knocks  precisely  like  the  first 
were  given,  and  then  the  door  opened. 

The  two  stepped  quickly  into  the  room,  and  Herbert's  arms 
were  instantly  seized  by  some  one  from  behind  the  door,  and 
drawn  backward  by  an  effort  to  fasten  the  wrists  together  be 
hind  him.  Quicker  than  thought,  young  Randolph  wrested 
his  arms  from  the  grip  that  was  upon  them,  and,  turning  like  a 
flash,  planted  a  solid  blow  upon  the  jaw  of  his  assailant — a 
blow  which  sent  him,  with  a  terrified  yell,  sprawling  to  the 
floor. 

Then  it  was  that  he  recognized,  in  the  prostrate  figure, 
Felix  Mortimer,  and  a  sickening  sense  of  the  awful  truth 
dawned  upon  him.  He  was  trapped  ! 

The  genial  friend  whom  he  had  met  on  the  Bowery  now 
showed  his  real  character,  and  before  Herbert  could  further 
defend  himself,  he  was  pounced  upon  by  him  and  a  villainous 
looking  man  with  a  scraggy  red  beard  and  most  repulsive  feat 
ures.  They  threw  a  thick  black  cloth  over  his  head,  and,  after 
binding  his  hands  firmly  together,  thrust  him  into  a  dark  vault, 
or  pen,  in  the  cellar. 

Our  hero  realized  now  most  fully  his  helpless  and  defenseless 
position — a  position  that  placed  him  entirely  at  the  mercy  of 
his  enemies  ;  if  mercy  in  any  degree  dwelt  in  the  breasts  of  the 
cruel  band  of  outlaws  in  whose  den  he  was  now  a  prisoner. 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  8 7 


CHAPTER   XI. 

IMPRISONED    AT    THE    FEXCEo 

"  r  I  ^HIS  is  a  fine  beginning  to  a  city  career — short  but  brill 
iant,"  said  young  Randolph  to  himself,  bitterly,  as  he 
mused  upon  his  deplorable  situation. 

"Fool  that  I  was!  It's  all  plain  enough  to  me  now,"  he 
continued,  after  a  half  hour's  deep  thought,  in  which  he  traced 
back,  step  by  step,  his  experiences  since  landing  in  the  big 
city.  "  I  ought  to  have  recognized  him  at  once — the  villain  ! 
He  is  the  very  fellow  I  saw  across  the  street  with  his  pal,  as  I 
left  the  bank.  I  thought  he  looked  familiar,  but  I've  seen  so 
many  people  in  this  great  town  that  I'm  not  surprised  at  my 
miss.  Mighty  bad  miss,  though  ;  one  that  has  placed  me  in  a 
box  trap,  and  under  ground  at  that." 

Herbert  was  right  in  his  conclusions.  The  fellow  who  had 
so  cleverly  played  the  confidence  game  upon  him  was  the  same 
one  who  awaited  his  appearance  in  Wall  Street,  and  afterwards 
shadowed  him  up  Broadway. 

"This  must  all  be  the  work  of  that  young  villain  Morti 
mer,"  continued  Herbert,  still  reasoning  on  the  subject.  "I 
ought  to  have  been  sharper  ;  Bob  told  me  to  look  out  for  him. 
If  I  had  had  any  sense,  I  could  have  seen  that  he  meant  to  be 
revenged  upon  me.  I  knew  it,  and  yet  I  didn't  want  to  admit, 
even  to  myself,  that  I  was  at  all  uneasy.  He  must  have  been 


88  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

the  same  one  that  pointed  me  out  to  this  confidence  fellow  on 
Wall  Street.  He  was  probably  made  up  with  false  side  whis 
kers  and  mustache,  so  that  I  wouldn't  recognize  him. 

"Well,"  said  he,  starting  up  suddenly  from  his  reverie, 
"  how  is  all  this  reasoning  about  how  I  came  to  get  into  this 
trap  going  to  help  me  to  get  out  of  it  ?  That  is  what  I  want 
to  know  ;"  and  he  commenced  exploring  his  dark,  clamp  cell,  in 
search  of  some  clew  that  would  aid  him  in  solving  the 

fj 

problem. 

He  was  not  alarmed  about  his  personal  safety.  Up  to  this 
time,  happily,  no  such  thought  had  entered  his  mind.  He  san- 
guinely  looked  upon  his  imprisonment  as  merely  temporary. 

In  this  opinion,  however,  he  erred  greatly.  The  same  rural 
credulity  that  made  him  the  victim  of  Peter  Smartweed,  now 
led  him  to  suppose  that  the  unscrupulous  rascals  who  held  him 
a  prisoner  would  soon  release  him.  He  looked  upon  the  mat 
ter  as  simply  one  of  revenge  on  the  part  of  Mortimer.  He 
little  realized  his  true  situation,  and  did  not  even  dream  of  the 
actual  significance  of  his  imprisonment.  He  therefore  felt  a 
sense  of  genuine  consolation  when  he  thought  of  the  well 
deserved  blow  he  had  delivered  upon  his  enemy's  jaw  ;  and 
several  times,  as  he  prowled  around  the  cell,  he  laughed  heartily, 
thinking  of  Mortimer's  ridiculous  appearance  as  he  lay  stretched 
upon  the  floor. 

Herbert  Randolph  was  full  of  human  nature,  and  human 
nature  of  the  best  sort — warm  blooded,  natural,  sensible.  There 
was  nothing  pale  and  attenuated  about  him.  He  was  full  of 
spirits,  was  manly,  kind  and  generous,  and  yet  he  could  apprec 
iate  heartily  a  point  honorably  gained  on  the  enemy.  Thus 
instead  of  giving  himself  up  to  despair  and  grief,  he  tried  to 
derive  all  the  comfort  possible  out  of  his  situation. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  89 

His  cell  was  dark  as  night.  He  could  not  see  his  own 
hands,  and  the  dampness  and  musty  odor,  often  noticeable  in 
old  cellars,  added  much  to  his  discomfort.  He  found  that  the 
cell  was  made  of  strong  three  inch  slats,  securely  bolted  to 
thick  timbers.  These  strips,  or  slats,  were  about  three  inches 
apart.  The  door  was  made  in  the  same  manner,  and  was 
fastened  with  a  padlock.  Altogether  his  cell  was  more 
like  a  cage  than  anything  else  ;  however,  it  seemed  designed 
to  hold  him  securely  against  all  efforts  to  escape  from  his 
captors. 

The  door,  as  previously  stated,  was  fastened  by  a  padlock. 
Herbert  learned  this  by  putting  his  hands  through  the  slats, 
and  carefully  going  over  every  part  of  the  fastening  arrange 
ment. 

This  discovery  gave  him  slight  hopes.  The  lock  he 
judged  to  be  one  of  the  ordinary  cheap  ones  such  as  his  father 
always  used  on  his  cornhouse  and  barn  doors.  Now  he  had 
on  several  occasions  opened  these  locks  by  means  of  a  stiff 
wire,  properly  bent.  Therefore,  should  this  lock  prove  to  be 
one  of  the  same  kind,  and  should  fortune  place  within  his 
reach  a  suitable  piece  of  wire,  or  even  a  nail  of  the  right  sort, 
he  felt  that  he  could  make  good  his  escape  from  this  cell. 

"  But  should  I  succeed  in  this,"  he  very  prudently  reasoned, 
"would  I  be  any  better  off?  That  heavy  trap  door  is  un 
doubtedly  fastened  down,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  that  is  the 
only  means  of  exit;  but —  What  is  that?"  he  suddenly 

said  to  himself,  as  he  felt  the  cold  shivers  creep  over  him. 

The  sound  continues.  It  seems  like  rasping  or  grating. 
Louder  and  more  distinct  it  grows,  as  Herbert's  imagination 

<_>  o 

becomes  more  active. 

Every  sound  to  one  in  his  situation,  in  that  dark,  lonesome 


9o  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

cellar,  could  easily  be  interpreted  to  mean  many  forms  of  dan 
ger  to  him.  But  at  length  he  reasons,  from  the  irregular  rasp 
ing,  and  from  other  slight  evidences,  that  this  noise  is  the 
gnawing  of  hungry  rats. 

What  a  frightful  and  alarming  discovery  this  is  to  him  ! 
It  strikes  terror  to  his  brave  young  heart,  and  makes  cold 
beads  of  perspiration  stand  out  upon  his  brow.  And  as  these 
silent  drops — the  evidence  of  suffering — trickle  down  his  face 
one  by  one,  chilly  and  dispiriting,  he  grows  sick  to  the  very 
core. 

Alone  in  a  dark,  damp  cellar,  with   no  means  of  defense— 
not  even  a  stick,  a  knife,  or  any  sort  of   implement  to  protect 
himself  from  the  hordes  of  rats  that  now  surround  him. 

This  indeed  is  a  night  of  terror  to  our  young  hero.  He 
does  no.t  dare  to  throw  himself  upon  the  bench,  lest  he  should 
sleep,  and,  sleeping,  be  attacked  by  these  dreadful  rats. 

Accordingly,  he  commenced  walking  back  and  forth  in  his 
cell,  as  a  caged  tiger  walks  hour  after  hour  from  one  end  to  the 
other  of  his  narrow  confines. 

"  This  will  keep  me  awake,"  said  he  to  himself,  with  an  at 
tempt  to  rouse  his  spirits;  "and  it  will  also  keep  the  rats 
away." 

After  he  had  paced  thus  for  a  time,  he  heard  steps  above 
him,  and  instantly  he  called  out  for  aid.  He  called  again  and 
again,  but  the  inhuman  ear  of  old  Gunwagner  was  deaf  to  his 
imploring  cries. 

The  sound  of  footsteps  was  soon  lost,  and  all  was  still  save 
the  gnawing  of  the  rats.  Herbert  listened  quietly  for  a  time, 
to  study  their  movements.  Soon  he  heard  them  scampering 
about  in  all  parts  of  the  cellar.  From  the  noise  they  made  he 
judged  them  to  be  very  large ;  and  they  were  certainly  bold, 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  91 

for  now  they  were  running  about  in  contemptuous  disregard  of 
young   Randolph's   presence.      Occasionally  he  would  yell  at 
them,  and  kick  vigorously  upon  the  framework  of  his  cell.      By 
this  means  he  kept  them  at  a  somewhat  respectful  distance. 

And  now  his  mind  reverted  again  to  the  cause  of  his  im 
prisonment.  As  the  long,  weary  hours  dragged  by,  he  studied 
the  matter  with  the  utmost  care,  giving  painstaking  thought 
to  the  slightest  details  and  the  most  trivial  acts.  His  points 
were,  consequently,  well  made.  They  \vere  reasonable,  logi 
cal,  probable.  The  scheme  broadened  as  he  progressed.  What 
he  had  supposed  to  be  a  mere  matter  of  revenge  now  loomed 
up  clearly  and  distinctly  before  him  as  a  bold  plot  against  him 
self — a  piece  of  outrageous  villainy  that  fairly  appalled  him. 

He  saw  Felix  Mortimer  in  his  place  in  the  bank  ;  saw 
himself  looked  upon  by  Mr.  Goldwin  with  suspicion  and  dis 
gust.  And  this  feeling,  he  knew,  would  extend  to  his  daugh 
ter — bright,  winsome  Ray. 

It  was  odd  that  Herbert  should  think  of  her  in  this  connec 
tion,  while  in  such  mental  agony.  He  had  seen  her  but  once, 
and  then  only  for  a  minute.  True,  she  was  wonderfully  pretty, 
and  her  manner  was  irresistibly  attractive,  but  young  Randolph 
was  of  a  serious  turn  of  mind.  No,  he  was  not  one  to  become 
infatuated  with  any  girl,  however  charming ;  he  never  had  been, 
and,  to  use  his  own  language,  he  did  not  propose  to  become  so. 
But  he  could  not  help  thinking  of  Ray  in  connection  with  this 
matter.  He  recalled  how  her  sunny  presence  lighted  up  the 
bank  that  very  afternoon,  and  in  imagination  he  saw  her  bright, 
mischievous  blue  eyes,  brimful  of  fun  and  merriment,  as  he 
handed  her  into  her  carriage. 

"  She  did  look  sweet,  confounded   if  she  didn't,"  said    Her 
bert  to  himself,  foro-ettina-  for  the  time  his  sorrow;   "  sweet  and 


92  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

pretty  as  a  peach,  and  her  cheeks  had  the  same  rich,  delicate 
tint.  Her  hair—  Great  Scott  !  "  ejaculated  young  Ran 
dolph,  suddenly  awaking  to  what  he  had  been  saying.  "An 
other  evidence  of  my  being  a  fool.  I'd  better  have  stayed  on 
the  farm,"  he  continued,  more  or  less  severely. 

"  Well,  I'm   a  prisoner,"  he  said,  sadly,   after  a  thoughtful 


YOUNG    RANDOLPH    AT   LAST   FALLS    ASLEEP   EXHAUSTED. 

pause.  "It  doesn't  matter  much  what  I  think  or  say.  But, 
somehow  or  other,  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  her,"  he  continued, 
meditatively.  "  Now  she  will  think  of  me  only  with  contempt, 
just  as  her  father  will.  Of  course  she  will ;  it  would  be  only 
natural." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  93 

Exhausted,  weary,  and  even  overburdened  with  oppressive 
thought,  he  sat  down  on  the  wooden  bench  in  his  cell.  The 
rats  still  gnawed  and  frolicked,  and  prowled  at  will.  Herbert 
listened  to  them  for  a  moment ;  then  he  thought  of  his  dear 
mother  and  father,  of  his  home,  his  own  comfortable  bed. 

A  stray  tear  now  stole  clown  his  cheeks,  and  then  another. 
The  poor  boy  was  overcome,  and  he  gave  way  to  a  sudden 
outburst  of  grief.  Then  he  rested  his  head  in  his  hand,  and 
tried  to  think  a^ain.  But  his  mind  was  wearied  to  exhaus- 

O 

tion. 

"  My  mother,  my  mother  and  father  !  Oh,  how  I  wish  I 
could  see  them  !  What  would  they  do  if  they  only  knew 
where  I  am  ?  " 

He  paused  after  this  utterance  ;  and  now  his  thoughts 
suddenly  ceased  their  weary  wanderings.  All  was  quiet,  and 
the  long  measured  breathing  gave  evidence  that  our  young 
hero  slept. 


94  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

BOB'S     BRILLIANT     MOVE. 

BUT  I  say,  Bob,  I  don't  jest  see  how  we  are  goin'  to  get 
into  that  den,"  said  Tom  Flannery,  thoughtfully,  as  he 
and  his  companion  hurried  along  towards  old  Gunwagner's. 

"  Don't  you  ?"  replied  Bob,  carelessly,  as  if  the  matter  was 
of  trivial  importance. 

"No,  I  don't     Do  you,  Bob?" 

"  Do  you  think,  Tom  Flannery,  that  a  detective  is  goin'  to 
tell  all  he  knows — is  goin'  to  give  away  the  game  before  it's 
played  ?  "  said  Bob,  with  feigned  displeasure. 

He  asked  this  question  to  evade  the  one  put  to  him. 

"  I  thought  they  always  told  them  as  was  in  the  secret, 
don't  they?" 

"  Well,  I  must  say  you  have  some  of  the  ignorantest  ideas 
of  any  boy  I  ever  see,"  said  Bob,  with  assumed  surprise. 

Young  Flannery  looked  sad,  and  made  no  reply. 

"  The  trouble  with  you,  Tom,  is  that  you  worry  too  much," 
continued  the  juvenile  detective. 

"  I  ain't  worryin',  Bob.  What  made  you  think  that  ?  I 
only  wanted  to  know  what's  the  racket,  an'  what  I've  got  to 
do." 

"  Well,  you  s'pose  I  bro't  you  up  here  to  do  something 
don't  you  ? " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  95 

"  Of  course  you  did,  Bob.  But  what  is  it?  That's  what  I 
want  to  know." 

"  You  ask  more  questions  than  any  feller  I  ever  see,  Tom 
Flannery.  Now  you  jest  tell  me  what  any  detective  would  do, 
on  a  case  like  this  one  is,  and  tell  me  what  he'd  want  you  to 
do,  an'  then  I'll  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do." 

Tom  looked  grave,  and  tried  hard  to  think. 

The  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  Bob  himself  hardly  knew 
what  step  to  take  next,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  plan  he  had 
formed.  But  his  reputation  was  at  stake.  He  thought  he 
must  make  a  good  showing  before  Tom,  though  the  matter  of 
gaining  an  entrance  to  Gunwagner's  was  far  from  clear  to  him. 
He  therefore  wanted  Tom's  opinion,  but  it  would  not  do  to 
ask  him  for  it,  so  he  adopted  this  rather  sharp  device. 

"  Blamed  if  I  can  tell,  Bob,  what  a  detective  would  do,"  re 
plied  Tom.  "  You  see  I  ain't  no  natural  detective  like  you. 
But  I  should  think  he'd  swoop  clown  on  the  den  and  scoop  it." 

"  And  that's  what  you  think  a  reg'lar  detective  would  do  ?" 

"  Yes.      I  don't  see  nothin'  else  for  him  to  do." 

"  Well,  how  would  he  do  it  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  no  detective,  Bob,  so  I  don't  know." 

"  I  didn't  s'pose  you  did  know,  Tom  Flannery,  so  now  I'll 
tell  you,"  said  Bob,  who  had  seized  upon  his  companion's  sug 
gestion.  "  A  regular  detective,  if  he  was  in  my  place,  and 
had  you  to  help  him,  would  do  jest  what  I'm  going  to  do,  and 
that  is  to  send  you  into  the  den  first,  to  see  what  you  can  find 
out." 

"Send  me  in?"  exclaimed  Tom,  incredulously. 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  said,  wasn't  it  ?" 

"  And  that's  what  a  reg'lar  detective  would  do  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


96  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"And  that's  what  you're  goin'  to  do  ?" 

"  Yes,  of  course  it  is.  Why  wouldn't  I  do  the  same  as  any 
other  detective  ?  That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

"  Of  course  you  would,  Bob,  but  I  couldn't  do  nothin'  if  I 
should  go  in,"  said  Tom,  gently  protesting  against  the  proposed 
plan  of  action. 

"You  can  do  what  I  tell  you  to,  can't  you  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  it,  any  way,  I  tell  you,"  re 
plied  Tom,  showing  more  plainly  his  disinclination  to  obedi 
ence. 

"  Tom  Flannery,  I  wouldn't  er  believed  that  you  would 
back  out  this  way,"  said  Bob,  with  surprise. 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  a  detective  no  way.  I  don't  care 
nothin'  about  my  name  bein'  in  the  paper." 

"  You  hain't  got  no  ambition.  If  you  had,  you'd  show  some 
spunk  now.  'Tain't  often  a  feller  has  a  chance  to  get  into  a 
case  like  this  one  is." 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  it  ain't,  that's  what  I  say." 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  to  be  a  detective,  and  couldn't 
wait,  hardly,  for  me  to  work  up  the  case." 

"  Well,  I  didn't  think  I'd  have  to  climb  into  places  like 
this  old  Gunwagner's.  'Tain't  what  I  call  bein'  a  detective  no 
way." 

"  You  make  me  tired,  Tom  Flannery.  You  get  the  foolish- 
est  notions  into  your  head  of  any  boy  I  ever  see." 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  I  do.  I  know  plenty  detectives  don't 
do  nothin'  like  this.  They  jest  dress  up  and  play  the  gentle 
man,  that's  what  they  do." 

"And  that's  the  kind  of  a  detective  you  want  to  be,  is  it?" 

"Yes,  it  is  ;  there  ain't  no  danger  about  that  kind  of  bein'  a 
detective." 


THE  B  O  Y  BR  OKER.  9  7 

"  Tom,  you'd  look  great  tryin'  to  be  a  gentleman,  wouldn't 
you?  I'd  like  to  see  you,  Tom  Flannery,  a  gentleman!"  said 
Bob,  derisively.  "It  makes  me  sick,  such  talk." 

Tom  was  silent  for  a  time.  Evidently  he  thought  there  was 
some  ground  for  Bob's  remarks. 

o 

But  an  idea  occurred  to  him  now. 

"  Bob,"  said  he,  "  if  you  like  bein'  this  kind  of  a  detectivev 
why  don't  you  go  in  yourself,  instead  of  sendin'me?  Now, 
answer  me  that,  will  you  ?  " 

"It  wouldn't  be  reg'lar  professional  like,  and  then  there 
wouldn't  be  no  style  about  it." 

Tom  made  no  reply.  In  fact  there  seemed  nothing  further 
for  him  to  say;  Bob's  answer  left  no  chance  for  argument. 

The  two  boys  now  stood  opposite  Gunwagner's.  Presently 
a  boy  with  a  package  in  his  hand  approached  the  house,  and, 
looking  nervously  about  him,  as  if  he  feared  he  was  watched, 
walked  up  the  stoop  and  rang  the  bell  three  times.  He  did  not 
see  the  two  young  detectives,  as  they  were  partially  hidden  by 
a  big  telegraph  pole. 

After  a  time  the  door  opened,  and  he  passed  in.  Bob  no 
ticed  that  it  was  very  dark  inside,  and  wondered  why  no  light 
shone. 

"  I  couldn't  get  in,  nohow,  if  I  wanted  to,"  said  Tom,  trying 
to  justify  himself  for  his  seeming  cowardice. 

"Does  look  so,"  assented  Bob,  absent  mindedly. 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  be  a  prisoner  in  there ;  would  you, 
Bob?" 

"  No,  of  course  I  wouldn't." 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  your  chum  out." 

"  I  wish  so,  too  ;  but  you  don't  s'pose  we  can  do  it  by  stand 
ing  here,  do  you  ?  " 


98  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  No,  but  I  don't  know  nothin'  to  do  ;  do  you,  Bob  ?  " 

"  If  I  told  you  what  to  do,  you  wouldn't  do  it." 

"  Well,   I  didn't  see   no  sense  in  my  ooin'  in  there  alone, 

J      O 

nohow." 

"  I  did,  if  you  didn't.  I  wanted  you  to  look  round  and  see 
what  you  could  find  out,  and  post  me,  so  when  I  went  in  I 
could  do  the  errand  act." 

o 

"  I  wouldn't  a'  got  out  to  post  you,  Bob.  They'd  a'  kept 
me — that's  what  they'd  done." 

The  door  now  opened,  and  out  came  the  same  boy  who  but 
a  few  minutes  before  had  entered  the  Gun  wanner  clen.  He 

o 

looked  cautiously  about  him,  and  then  started  down  the  street 
toward  the  East  River.  He  was  a  small  boy,  of  about  twelve 
years  of  age,  while  our  two  detectives  were  several  years  his 
senior.  From  remarks  dropped  by  Felix  Mortimer  and  Peter 
Smartweed,  Bob  surmised  that  Gunwagner  might  keep  a  fence, 
and  the  suspicious  manner  of  this  small  boy  confirmed  his  be 
lief. 

"  Here's  our  chance,"  whispered  Bob,  nervously.  "  You 
follow  this  boy  up,  and  don't  let  him  get  away  from  you.  I'll 
rush  ahead  and  cut  him  off.  Keep  close  to  him,  so  we  can  cor 
ner  him  when  I  whistle  three  times." 

"All  right,"  said  Tom,  with  his  old  show  of  enthusiasm,  and 
each  commenced  the  pursuit. 

Between  Allen  and  Orchard  Streets  the  detectives  closed  in 
on  the  small  boy.  Bob  had  put  himself  fairly  in  front  of  him, 
and  Tom  followed  close  behind.  The  chief  detective  slackened 
his  pace  very  perceptibly,  and  seemed  to  be  trying  to  make  out 
the  number  on  the  house  before  which  he  now  halted. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  old  Gunwagner  lives  ?"  said  he,  ad 
dressing  the  small  boy,  who  was  now  about  to  pass  by. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  99 

The  boy  stopped  suddenly,  and  the  color  as  suddenly  left 
his  face. 

Bob  had  purposely  chosen  this  locality,  close  to  a  gaslight, 
so  that  he  might  note  the  effect  of  his  question  upon  the  boy. 
Now  he  gave  the  signal  as  agreed  upon,  and  Tom  instantly 
came  up  and  took  a  position  that  made  retreat  for  the  lad  im 
possible.  The  latter  saw  this,  and  burst  into  tears.  Conscious 
of  his  own  guilt,  he  needed  no  further  accuser  to  condemn  him. 

"  Don't  take  it  so  hard,"  said  Bob ;  "  you  do  the  square 
thing,  and  we  won't  blow  on  you — will  we,  Tom  ? " 

"  No,  we  won't,"  replied  the  latter. 

"  We  saw  you  when  you  went  into  Gunwagner's — saw  the 
package  in  your  hand,  and  know  the  whole  game,"  continued 
Bob.  "  Now,  if  you  will  help  us  put  up  a  job,  why,  we  will  let 
you  off ;  but  if  you  don't  come  down  square  and  do  the  right 
thing,  why,  we  will  jest  run  you  in,  and  you'll  get  a  couple  of 
years  or  more  on  the  Island.  Now  what  do  you  say?" 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  sobbed  the  small  boy, 
trembling  with  fear. 

<_> 

"  I  want  you  to  go  back  with  us,  and  take  me  into  Gunwag 
ner's." 

Tom  was  an  interested  listener,  for  he  knew  nothing  about 
Bob's  plans  or  purposes. 

From  further  questionings,  and  many  threats,  our  detectives 
found  that  a  number  of  boys  were  in  the  habit  of  taking  stolen 
goods  to  this  miserable  old  fence.  The  number  mixed  up  in 
the  affair  Bob  did  not  learn,  but  he  ascertained  the  fact  that 
Felix  Mortimer  had  often  been  seen  there  by  this  lad. 

"  Now  me  and  Tom  are  doin'  the  detective  business,"  said 
the  chief  ;  "  and  if  you  want  to  be  a  detective  with  us,  you  can 
join  right  in." 


i  oo  THE  BO  \ r  13 R OKER. 

"  I  want  to  go  home,"  sobbed  the  boy. 

"  Well,  you  can't,  not  now,"  said  Bob,  emphatically.  "  We 
hain't  got  no  time  for  nonsense.  You've  either  got  to  go  along 
with  me  and  Tom,  and  help  us,  or  we  will  run  you  in.  Now 
which  will  you  do  ?  " 

The  boy  yielded  to  the  eloquence  of  the  chief  detective,  and 
accompanied  him  and  Tom  back  to  old  Gunwagner's.  The 
boldness  of  this  move  captured  young  Flannery's  admira 
tion. 

"  Now  this  -is  what  I  call  bein'  detectives,  Bob,"  whispered 
he.  "  Gewhittaker,  I  didn't  think,  though,  you  could  do  it  so 
grand.  I  don't  believe  nobody  could  beat  you." 

Bob  nodded  his  approval  of  the  compliment,  and  then  ad 
dressed  himself  to  the  young  lad. 

"  I  want  you,"  said  he,  "  to  take  me  in  and  say  I'm  a  friend 
of  yours  who  wants  to  sell  somethin'.  You  needn't  do  nothirf 
more.  Every  detective  puts  up  jobs  like  this,  so  'tain't  tellin' 
nothin'  wrong." 

Then,  turning  to  his  companion,  he  added  : 

"  Now,  Tom,  if  this  boy  ain't  square,  and  he  does  anything 
so  I  get  into  Gunwagner's  clutches,  and  can't  get  out,  why  I 
want  you  to  go  for  an  officer,  and  come  and  arrest  this  boy  and 
the  whole  o^anof." 

O  <-> 

The  lad  trembled.  "  I  won't  do  nothin',"  he  protested. 
"  I'll  do  just  what  you  want  me  to." 

"  All  right  ;  you  do  so,  and  you'll  save  yourself  a  visit  to 
the  Island.  Now,  when  I  am  talking  with  old  Gunwagner,  if  I 
tell  you  to  come  outside  and  get  the  package  I  left  at  the  door, 
why,  you  come  jest  as  if  I  did  have  it  there,  and  you  come  right 
straight  for  Tom,  and  he  will  tell  you  what  to  do.  And  mind 
you  be  sure  and  don't  close  the  outside  door,  for  I  want  you  to 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  101 

leave  it  so  you  and  Tom  can  get  in  without  ringing  the  bell, 
for  that's  the  secret  of  the  whole  job." 

The  boy  readily  assented  to  Bob's  conditions  and  com 
mands,  and  then  the  chief  gave  his  companion  secret  instruc 
tions,  to  be  acted  upon  after  he  himself  had  gone  into  the  very 
den  of  the  old  fence. 


102  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

A     TERRIBLE      FEAR. 

IT  was  towards  morning  when  Herbert  Randolph  fell  asleep 
on  the  night  of  his  imprisonment.      He  had  fought  man 
fully  to  keep  awake,  dreading  the  consequences  of  slumber,  but 
tired  nature  gave  way  at  last,  and  our  young  hero  slept,  uncon 
scious  now  of  danger. 

o 

The  rats  that  he  so  much  feared  still  frolicked,  and  prowled, 
and  gnawed,  as  they  had  done  for  hours.  They  climbed  upon 
boxes  and  barrels,  and  made  their  way  into  every  corner  and 
crevice.  Everything  was  inspected  by  them. 

More  inquisitive  rats  than  these  never  infested  the  metro 
polis.  Now  they  went  in  droves,  and  scampered  from  place  to 
place  like  a  flock  of  frightened  sheep.  Then  they  strayed 
apart  and  prowled  for  a  time  alone.  An  occasional  fight  came 
off  by  way  of  variety,  and  in  these  battles  the  vanquished,  and 
perhaps  their  supporters,  often  squealed  like  so  many  young 
pigs. 

Thus  the  carousal  continued  hour  after  hour,  and  that  old 
Gunwagner  cellar  was  for  the  time  a  diminutive  bedlam.  Our 
young  hero,  nevertheless,  slept  on  and  on,  unconscious  of  this 
racket. 

After  a  while  the  rats  grew  bolder.  Their  curiosity  became 
greater,  and  then  they  began  to  investigate  more  carefully  the 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  1 03 

state  of  things  within  the  prison  cell,  and  at  length  their  atten 
tion  was  turned  to  the  quiet  sleeper. 

Well  bred  rats  are  always  cautious,  and  therefore  are  some 
what  respectful,  but  the  drove  at  old  Gunwagner's  did  not 
show  this  desirable  trait.  In  fact  they  were  not  unlike  the  old 
fence  himself — daring,  avaricious  and  discourteous.  No  better 
proof  of  this  could  be  instanced  than  their  disreputable  treat 
ment  of  our  young  hero. 

Rats,  as  a  rule,  show  a  special  fondness  for  leather.  Un 
doubtedly  it  is  palatable  to  them.  But  this  fact  would  not 
justify  them  in  the  attempt  they  made  to  appropriate  to  them 
selves  Herbert's  boots.  The  propriety  of  such  an  act  was  most 
questionable,  and  no  well  mannered  rats  would  have  allowed 
themselves  to  become  a  party  to  such  a  raid.  But  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  and  as  Herbert  learned  to  his  sorrow,  there  were  no 
well  mannered  rats  at  old  Gunwagner's — none  but  a  thieving, 
quarrelsome  lot. 

After  a  council  of  war  had  been  held,  and  a  great  amount 
of  reconnoitering  had  been  done,  it  was  decided  that  these 
rural  boots  could  not  be  removed  from  their  rightful  owner  in 
their  present  shape ;  therefore  they  fell  vigorously  to  work  to 
reduce  them  to  a  more  movable  condition. 

When  Herbert  fell  asleep,  he  was  sitting  on  a  bench  with 
his  feet  upon  the  floor.  He  was  still  in  this  position,  with  his 
head  resting  in  his  hand,  and  his  elbow  supported  by  the  side 
of  his  prison  cell,  when  the  rats  made  war  on  his  boots.  They 
gnawed  and  chipped  away  at  them  at  a  lively  rate,  and  in  a 
little  time  the  uppers  were  entirely  destroyed.  The  cotton 
linings,  to  be  sure,  were  still  intact,  as  these  they  did  not  trou 
ble.  Evidently  cotton  cloth  was  not  a  tempting  diet  for  them. 

Up  to  this  time  Herbert  had  not  moved  a  muscle  since  he 


1 04  THE  BOY  BR OKER. 

fell  asleep,  but  now  a  troubled  dream  or  something  else,  I  know 
not  what,  disturbed  him.  Possibly  it  was  the  continued  gnaw 
ing  on  his  already  shattered  boots.  It  might,  however,  have 
been  the  fear  of  these  dreadful  rats,  or  the  repulsive  image  of 
old  Gunwagner,  that  haunted  him  and  broke  the  soundness  of 
his  slumbers. 

Presently  he  opened  his  eyes,  drowsily,  and  his  first  half 
waking  impression  was  the  peculiar  sensation  at  his  feet.  In 
another  instant  a  full  realization  of  the  cause  of  this  feeling 
darted  into  his  mind,  and  with  a  pitiful  cry  of  terror  he  bounded 
into  the  air  like  a  frightened  deer.  And  to  add  to  the  horror 
of  his  situation,  in  descending  his  right  foot  came  down  squarely 
upon  one  of  the  rats,  which  emitted  a  strange  cry,  a  sort  of 
squeal,  that  sent  a  thrill  throughout  every  nerve  of  our  hero's 
body. 

A  second  leap  brought  him  standing  upon  the  bench  upon 
which  he  had  been  sitting. 

If  ever  a  boy  had  good  reason  to  be   frightened,    it  was 

Herbert   Randolph.      His  situation  was  one  to  drive  men  mad 

—in  that  dark,  damp  cellar,  thus  surrounded  and  beset  by  this 

countless  horde  of  rats.     The  cold  perspiration  stood  out  upon 

him,  and  he  trembled  with  an  uncontrollable  fear. 

Something  was  wrong  with  his  feet.  He  knew  that,  for  his 
shoes  now  barely  hung  upon  them.  To  what  extent  the  rats 
had  gone  he  dreaded  to  know.  Already  he  could  feel  his  feet 
smart  and  burn  in  a  peculiar  manner.  Had  they  received 
poisonous  bites,  he  asked  himself?  The  mere  suggestion  of 
such  a  condition  to  one  in  his  frightened  state  of  mind  was 
quite  as  bad,  for  the  time,  as  actual  wounds  would  have  been. 

A  rat  isn't  very  good  company  at  any  time.  Under  the 
most  favorable  conditions  his  presence  has  a  tendency  to  send 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


105 


SUDDENLY    REALIZING     HIS     HOKK1BLE    SITUATION, 

HERBERT   SPRANG    UPON    THE    BENCH    WITH 

A    PITIFUL   CRY   OF    TERROR. 


people  upon  chairs 
or  the  nearest  table, 
and  not  infrequently 
they  do  this  little  act 
with  a  whoop  that 
would  do  credit  to  a 
genuine  frontier  In 
dian.  When,  there 
fore,  we  consider  this 
fact,  it  is  not  difficult 
to  realize  the  alarming 
situation  in  which  our 
young  hero  was,  and 
but  for  the  timely 
sound  of  footsteps 
overhead  it  is  impossi 
ble  to  predict  what 
might  have  been  the 
result  of  this  terrible 
mental  strain  on  him. 
The  night  had 
worn  away,  the  old 
fence  was  again  on  the 
move,  and  Herbert's 
piercing  cry  brought 
him  to  the  room 
over  the  cell.  No 
sooner  had  our  young 
friend  heard  this 
sound  above  his  head 
than  he  appealed  for 


106  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

help.  So  alarming  were  his  cries  that  even  old  Gunwagner 
was  at  length  moved  to  go  to  his  assistance.  He  retraced  his 
steps  to  the  front  of  the  house,  and,  taking  a  lighted  lamp  with 
him,  passed  down  through  the  trap  door,  and  then  made  his  way 
into  the  rear  cellar  to  Herbert's  cell. 

Never  before  in  his  life  had  the  presence  of  a  human  being 
been  so  welcome  as  was  that  of  Gunwagner  to  our  frightened 
hero.  What  a  relief  to  this  oppressive  darkness  was  that  small 
lamp  light,  and  how  quickly  it  drove  all  the  rats  into  their  hid 
ing  places. 

"  What's  all  this  row  about  ?  "  growled  the  old  fence. 

"  These  rats,"  gasped  Herbert,  with  a  strange,  wild  look  ; 
"see,  they  have  bitten  me,"  pointing  to  his  boots,  or  what  re 
mained  of  them. 

Gunwagner's  heart  softened  a  trifle  as  he  beheld  the  boy's 
sufferings,  and  saw  how  he  had  been  assailed. 

"  Are  you  sure  they  have  bit  you  ?  "  said  he,  uneasily. 

"  Look  !  see  !  "  replied  Herbert,  holding  out  the  worst  mu 
tilated  boot.  He  fully  believed  he  had  been  bitten,  though,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  he  had  not. 

The  old  fence  became  alarmed,  fearing  the  annoyance  and 
possible  danger  that  might  follow ;  but  when  he  had  satisfied 
himself  by  a  careful  examination  that  young  Randolph  had  sus 
tained  no  injuries,  he  speedily  changed  back  to  his  old  hard 
manner  again — a  cold,  cruel  manner  that  showed  no  mercy. 

Herbert  begged  to  be  released  from  his  prison  pen,  but  his 
pleadings  were  of  no  avail. 

"  Why  are  you  treating  me  in  this  inhuman  way  ?"  asked 
he.  "  What  have  I  done  that  I  should  be  shut  up  here  by 
you?" 

Old  Gunwagner  looked  hard  at  him,  but  made  no  reply. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  107 

"  I  know  why  it  is,"  continued  our  hero,  growing  bold  and 
defiant  when  he  saw  it  was  useless  to  plead  for  kindness  ;  "  I 
can  see  through  the  whole  scheme  now ;  but  you  mark  my 
words,  old  man,  you  will  suffer  for  this  cruelty,  and  so  will  your 
friend  Felix  Mortimer." 

These  words  came  from  the  lips  of  the  young  prisoner  with 
such  terrible  emphasis  that  old  Gunwagner,  hardened  as  he  was 
in  sin,  grew  pale,  and  trembled  visibly  for  his  own  safety. 


io8  THE  HOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

BOB     OUTWITS     THE     OLD     FEXCK. 

BOB  easily  gained  admittance  to  the  den  by  the  aid  of  his 
confederate.  He  found  there  old  Gunwagner,  Felix 
Mortimer,  and  another  boy,  who  passed  out  just  after  the  young 
detective  entered.  The  old  fence  eyed  Bob  sharply,  and  per 
haps  somewhat  suspiciously.  The  manner  of  the  small  boy  was 
excited.  He  did  not  appear  natural,  and  this  alone  was  sufficient 
to  attract  the  old  man's  attention. 

It  was  a  critical  moment  for  Bob.  He  did  not  know  that 
the  boy  would  not  turn  against  him.  In  fact,  he  half  suspected 
he  would,  but  nevertheless  he  was  willing  to  take  the  chance  in 
the  interest  of  Herbert,  and  that  he  might  do  a  skillful  piece  of 
detective  work.  Moreover,  there  was  the  danger  of  being 
recognized  by  Felix  Mortimer,  who  had  seen  him  twice  that 
very  day;  once  at  the  bank  in  the  morning,  and  again  in  the 
afternoon  when  Bob  played  the  role  of  bootblack. 

Old  Gunwagner  questioned  him  sharply.  The  small  boy, 
however,  told  the  story  precisely  in  accordance  with  Bob's  in 
structions.  The  young  detective  meanwhile  hastily  surveyed 
the  room  and  its  furnishings,  and  when  he  had  discovered  what 
he  thought  would  serve  his  purpose,  he  turned  to  his  confeder 
ate,  and  said  : 

"  Well,  I  believe  I'll  let  this  man  have  the  things  I  brought 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  109 

with  me.  You  may  go  out  and  get  them,  and  bring  them  in 
here." 

"  Why  didn't  you  bring  them  in  with  you  ? "  asked  the 
fence,  suavely. 

"  I   didn't  know  as  we  could  trade,  so  I  thought  I'd  better 

*_> 

leave  'em  outside,"  answered  Bob,  carelessly. 

When  Tom  saw  the  boy  come  out  alone,  he  knew  the  part 
he  was  to  act,  and  following  out  the  directions  of  his  chief,  he 
and  the  confederate  rushed  into  the  dark  passageway  leading 
to  the  fence,  and  yelled  "Fire"  with  all  the  power  they  could 
command.  Before  giving  the  alarm,  however,  they  lighted  a 
newspaper,  and  placed  it  near  the  outer  door. 

Bob  had  purposely  made  his  way  to  a  far  corner  of  the 
room,  so  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  farther  from  the  place 
of  exit  than  either  Mortimer  or  Gunwagner.  This  was  part  of 
his  scheme. 

When  the  cry  of  fire  reached  the  old  fence,  he  bounded  to 
the  door  like  a  frightened  deer.  Throwing  it  open,  his  eyes 
instantly  fell  upon  the  great  flames  that  shot  up  from  the  burn 
ing  paper.  The  sight  struck  terror  to  him,  and,  with  an  agon 
ized  cry,  he  rushed  down  the  hallway  to  the  immediate  scene 
of  the  conflagration,  with  Felix  Mortimer  not  far  behind  him. 

A  gust  of  wind  now  blew  in  through  the  partially  open  door, 
and  scattered  the  charred  remains  of  the  newspaper  all  about 
the  feet  of  the  fence.  In  a  few  seconds  all  traces  of  the  fire 
were  lost,  and  then  the  trick  dawned  upon  the  old  man.  He 
was  furious  with  rage,  and  ran  out  into  the  street,  to  try  and 
discover  the  perpetrators  of  the  deed. 

Tom  and  the  confederate  remained  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  street  till  Gunwagner  and  Mortimer  appeared  at  the  cloor. 
Bob  had  instructed  Tom  to  do  this. 


1 10  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 

Both  Gunwagner  and  Felix  tumbled  into  this  trap,  which, 
by  the  way,  was  a  skillful  one  for  our  detective  to  set.  As  soon 
as  they  caught  sight  of  the  two  boys,  they  started  after  them  in 
hot  pursuit,  but  Tom  and  the  young  lad  were  excellent  runners, 
and,  having  a  good  start  of  their  pursuers,  they  kept  well  ahead 
of  them. 

Seeing,  therefore,  that  the  chase  was  a  hopeless  one,  the  old 
fence  and  Mortimer  returned  to  the  den.  The  former  was  al 
most  desperately  ugly.  He  growled  and  raved  in  a  frightful 
manner,  that  quite  alarmed  our  young  detective. 

"  What  has  become  of  that  new  boy  ?"  asked  Felix,  who  was 
the  first  to  think  about  him. 

Gunwagner  was  so  thoroughly  agitated  that  up  to  this  time 
he  had  not  thought  about  Bob.  At  young  Mortimer's  re 
minder,  however,  he  stopped  suddenly  in  his  ravings,  and  the 
color  as  quickly  left  his  face.  Then  he  hurried  to  where  a  box 
containing  silver  and  other  valuables  were  kept. 

"  It's  here,"  he  gasped,  almost  paralyzed  with  the  fear  that 
it  had  been  stolen  by  the  strange  boy. 

"  Is  anything  else  missing?"  asked  Felix. 

Our  young  detective  was  at  this  minute  doubled  up  in  a 
large  box  that  was  stowed  away  under  a  sort  of  makeshift  coun 
ter.  He  had  hurriedly  concealed  himself  in  this  manner  during 
the  absence  of  the  fence  and  Felix. 

"  I'll  look  things  over  and  see,"  said  old  Gunwagner,  reply 
ing  to  Mortimer's  question. 

Bob  thought  the  game  was  all  up  with  him  now.  He  felt 
much  as  Tom  Flannery  did.  He,  too,  "didn't  want  to  be  a 
detective,  no  how." 

"  There's  no  show  for  me  if  this  old  tyrant  gets  his  hands 
on  to  me,"  said  Bob  to  himself,  as  he  lay  cramped  up  in  that 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


1 1 1 


dirty  box,  hardly  daring  to  breathe.  "  I  didn't  think  about  it 
comin'  out  this  way  ;  if  I  had,  I  would  a'  fixed  things  with  Tom 
different.  Now  I  suppose  he's  gone  home,  as  I  told  him  to, 
and  I  can't  look  for  no  help  from  him  or  nobody  else." 

The  situation  was  a  depressing 
one,  and  it  grew  more  so  as  the 
mousing  old  fence  came  nearer  and 
nearer  to  where  our  young  detective 
lay.  He  searched  high  and  low  for 
traces  of  theft,  and  examined  every 
thing  with  careful  scrutiny. 

He  was  now  close  to  Bob's  hid 
ing  place. 

"He  must  be 
hid  away  here 
somewhere,"  said 
Felix,  with  a  very 
anxious  look  up 
on  his  face. 

"What  makes 
you  think  so  ?  " 
asked  the  o  1  cl 
man,  as  he  notic 
ed  young  Morti 
mer's  anxiety. 

No  boy  ever 
tried  harder  to 
suppress  his 
breath  than  Bob 
Hunter  did  at 

tniS  instant.        Its  GUNWAGNEK  PURSUING  THE  BOYS. 


i  i  2  77/7:'  BOY  BR  ( Vv7:7v'. 

all  up  with  me  now,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  They'll  get  me  sure  ; 
but  I'll  die  game." 

"  It  looks  suspicious  to  me,  and  that's  why  I  think  so,"  re 
plied  Felix,  showing  no  little  alarm. 

"  I  don't  see  nothing  suspicious  about  it,  as  long  as  nothing 
is  missing." 

"  To  be  sure,  but  I  believe  he  is  the  same  boy  that  was  in 
the  bank  today  looking  for  this  Randolph." 

"  And  he  is  the  boy  that  the  old  banker  told  you  about  ?  " 

"  Yes;  the  newsboy  who  said  some  foul  play  had  overtaken 
Randolph." 

The  old  fence  looked  exceedingly  troubled. 

"  We  must  capture  this  young  Arab,"  said  he,  emphatically, 
after  a  few  moments'  careful  thought. 

Bob's  ears  missed  nothing.  This  conversation  interested 
him  through  and  through. 

"Arab!"  said  he  to  himself.  "If  I  don't  get  caught  I'll 
show  you  whether  I'm  an  Arab  or  not." 

"  Perhaps  he  is  already  in  there,"  suggested  Mortimer  again. 

"  We  will  go  clown  cellar  and  see,"  said  the  old  man.  "He 
mieht  have  ofone  down  through  that  trap  door  while  we  was 

e!>  *J  O  1 

out." 

"  That's  what  I  thought ;  and  he  and  Randolph  may  already 
be  hatching  up  some  plan  for  escaping,"  said  Felix. 

Why  old  Gunwagner  neglected  to  search  the  big  box  under 
the  counter  is  inexplicable.  Possibly  the  hand  of  destiny 
shielded  the  young  detective,  for  he  was  on  an  errand  of 
mere)'. 

The  old  man  and  Felix  now  descended  the  stairs  into  the 
cellar,  and  commenced  their  search  for  the  strange  boy  who  had 
so  thoroughly  alarmed  them. 


THE  BO  Y  BR OKER.  1 1 


CHAPTER    XV. 

BOB    AND    HERBERT    MEET. 

WELL,  I  can't  understand  it,"  said  Felix,  as  he  and  the 
old   fence  came  up  from  the  cellar.      "  He  certainly 
isn't  down  there." 

"  No,  he  ain't  here,  that's  sure,"  replied  Gunwagner  ;  "but  if 
it  was  the  newsboy,  you  can  be  sure  he  will  show  up  again  in  a 
way  not  very  good  for  us." 

"  So  I  think,"  assented  Mortimer. 

"  Then  we  must  capture  him,  that's  all." 

"  I  wish  we  could.  You  see  he  might  go  to  old  Goldwin 
again,  and  tell  him  he  saw  me  here." 

"  Yes,  or  go  to  the  police  headquarters  and  raise  a  row," 
suggested  Gunwagner,  gloomily. 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that.  Well,  as  you  say,  the  only  thing 
for  us  to  do  is  to  capture  him  and  get  him  where  he  won't  make 
trouble  for  us." 

"  The  \vhole  game  will1  be  lost,  and  we  will  be  pulled  by  the 
police  unless  we  do  so." 

"  You  might's  well  count  your  game  lost,  then,"  said  Bob  to 
himself,  for  he  had  now  renewed  hope  of  carrying  through  his 
scheme.  But  he  was  nearly  paralyzed  with  pain,  from  the 
cramped  and  uncomfortable  position  in  which  he  had  remained 
so  long.  He  felt,  however,  that  he  was  doing  a  great  de- 


1 1 4  THE  BOY  11 R OKER. 

tective  act,  so  he  bore  up  under  his  sufferings  with  heroic  forti 
tude. 

"  Suppose  the  police  should  drop  on  us,  and  find  Randolph 
in  the  cellar?"  suggested  young  Mortimer. 

The  thought  evidently  alarmed  old  Gunwagner.  His  face 
and  whole  manner  showed  that  it  did. 

"  If  they  should  do  that,  we  would  go  to  Sing  Sing,"  returned 
he,  grimly. 

Felix  Mortimer  possessed  an  extremely  cool  nerve,  but  the 
words  "Sing  Sing"  did  not  fall  upon  his  ears  like  sweet  music. 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  him  out  of  the  way,"  said  he,  with 
manifest  anxiety.  "  It  must  be  done  tomorrow." 

"  There's  no  time  to  lose,  I  feel  sure.  But  what  shall  be 
done  with  him  ?  " 

"He  must  be  put  where  he  will  never  blow  on  us." 

"  Of  course  he  must." 

"  It's  a  bad  job— a  dirty,  bad  job — that's  what  I  call  it.  I 
only  wish  you'd  kept  away  from  me  with  your  devilish  scheme," 
said  the  old  villain,  petulantly. 

"  It's  no  time  to  talk  about  that  now,"  returned  Mortimer, 
coolly.  "  You  are  in  for  it  as  well  as  I,  so  we  must  work  to 
gether." 

"  We  must,  must  we  ?"  hissed  the  old  man,  wickedly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mortimer,  with  a  determined  manner,  that 
made  the  old  outlaw  cower  and  cringe.  Felix  Mortimer  pos 
sessed  the  stronger  character  of  the  two,  and,  now  he  was 
aroused,  Gunwagner  was  subservient  to  his  will. 

"  Unless  you  show  yourself  a  man  now,  I  will  leave  you  to 
fight  it  out  alone,"  continued  Felix.  "  I  can  take  care  of  my 
self.  Randolph  is  on  your  hands,  and  here  the  police  will  find 
him." 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  1 1 5 

Low,  profane  mutterings  from  the  old  culprit's  mouth  now 
filled  the  air.  He  was  cornered,  and  Mortimer  had  him  at  his 
mercy.  Gunwagner  saw  this  now,  and  commenced  planning  to 
get  our  young  hero  out  of  the  way. 

An  exceedingly  interesting  conversation  this  proved  to  the 
young  detective,  who  carefully  gathered  in  every  word. 

"  Something  is  liable  to  drop  with  you  fellers  before  long," 
said  he  to  himself.  "  This  detective  business  is  mighty  excitin', 
if  it's  all  like  this  is.  I  wonder  what  Tom  Flannery  would  say 
now,  if  he  could  take  this  all  in  the  same  way  I'm  doin'  it  !  " 

"  I  s'pose  we  can  run  him  off  to  sea,"  said  Gunwagner,  at 
length.  "  That's  the  only  way  I  know  of  to  get  him  out  of  the 
way." 

"  Then  why  not  do  that  ?  "  replied  Mortimer. 

"It  will  cost  a  lot  of  money." 

"  Better  pay  out  the  money  than  go  to  Sing  Sing." 

The  old  fence  looked  daggers  at  the  author  of  this  remark, 
but  evidently  thought  it  best  to  make  no  direct  reply. 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  him  away  tonight,"  continued  young- 
Mortimer,  in  a  way  that  exasperated  Gunwagner. 

"  Well,  you're  mighty  liable  to  be  accommodated,"  thought 
Bob,  as  a  broad  grin  played  over  his  face,  despite  the  suffering 
he  was  enduring.  "  I'm  goin'  to  take  a  hand  in  this  business 
myself,  and  I'll  try  my  best  to  help  you  fellers  through  with  this 
job." 

"  No,  it  can't  be  clone  tonight,"  said  the  old  fence,  gruffly  ; 
"  but  I'll  see  what  can  be  done  tomorrow." 

"  Fix  it  so  he  will  never  get  back  here  to  New  York  again," 
said  Mortimer,  heartlessly. 

"  Of  course  ;  that's  the  only  thing  to  do." 

"  Remember,  there  is  no  time  to  lose,  for  if  we  get  tripped 


1 1 6  THE  BOY  BR 

up   here,  the  whole  game  will   be  up   at  the  bank,  and  all  our 
trouble  will  come  to  nothing." 

o 

"  I  understand  that  ;  but  you  have  said  nothing  about  the 
outlook  at  the  bank." 

"  I  have  had  no  chance.  Some  one  has  been  here  all  the 
evening." 

"  You  have  the  chance  now." 

"  So  I  have  ;  but  there  is  nothing  to  say  yet.  You  don't 
expect  me  to  rob  a  bank  in  one  day,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  of  course  not  ;  but  what  are  the  chances  for  carrying 
out  the  scheme  ?  " 

"Ah,  ha  !"  said  the  young  detective  to  himself;  "bank  rob 
bing,  is  it  ?  That's  the  scheme.  \Yell,  this  detective  business 
beats  me.  I  guess  nobody  don't  often  get  a  more  excitin'  case 
than  this  one  is — that's  what  I  think." 

After  a  little  further  discussion  between  the  two  crooks, 
Mortimer  left  the  den  and  started  for  home.  Bob  suspected 
that  he  felt  very  happy  to  get  away  from  there  ;  and  Bob  was 
quite  right,  for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  young  scoundrel  had 
become  so  alarmed  over  the  prospect,  that  he  felt  very  uneasy 
about  remaining  a  minute  longer  than  was  absolutelv  necessary. 

fj  o  •*  * 

When  he  had  gone,  the  old  fence  closed  and  bolted  the  doors, 
and  then  passed  into  a  rear  room,  where  he  retired  to  his  bed. 
When  all  had  been  quiet  for  perhaps  the  space  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  minutes,  the  young  detective  crawled  out  of  his  box  and 
straightened  himself  out.  He  had,  however,  been  cramped  up 
so  long  that  this  was  not  so  easily  done.  But  matters  of  so 
great  moment  were  before  him  now,  that  he  could  not  think  of 
aches  and  pains.  He  learned  about  the  location  of  the  trap 
door,  when  the  old  fence  and  young  Mortimer  went  into  the 
cellar  to  look  for  him. 


THE  BO  1 r  /y/vj OKER.  1 1 7 

On  his  hands  and  knees  Bob  cautiously  proceeded,  search- 
in^  on  either  side  of  him  for  the  door.  It  was  so  dark  that  he 

o 

could  see  nothing,  and  as  the  room  was  filled  with  chairs,  old 

<!!> 

boxes,  and  so  on,  he  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  navigate  under 
such  circumstances,  especially  as  he  knew  that  the  slightest 
noise  would  prove  fatal  to  his  scheme. 

At  length  his  hand  rested  upon  the  fastening  of  the  trap 
door,  and  to  his  horror  he  found  it  locked.  If  the  room  had 
seemed  dark  before  to  the  young  detective,  it  was  now  most 
pppressively  black.  What  to  do,  which  way  to  turn,  he  did  not 
know.  The  doors  leading  to  the  street  were  locked,  he  had  no 
keys  about  him,  and  no  means  of  producing  a  light. 

"  This  is  the  worst  go  I've  struck  yet,"  said  Bob  to  himself, 
as  he  meditated  over  his  situation.  "Jest  as  I  thought  every 
thing  was  all  fixed,  this  blamed  old  lock  knocks  me  out.  Well, 

O 

I've  pulled  through  pretty  good  so  far,  and  I  won't  give  it  up 
yet.  I  may  strike  an  idea,"  he  continued,  undismayed,  and  then 
commenced  prowling  stealthily  about  the  room,  in  search  of 
something — anything  that  would  serve  his  purpose. 

He  thought  if  he  could  find  the  key  to  the  hall  door  he 
would  try  to  make  his  escape  from  the  building  ;  and,  once  out, 
he  could  get  matches,  and  whatever  else  he  needed  to  aid  him 
in  carrying  out  his  scheme  to  a  grand  success.  But  he  was  no 
more  fortunate  in  this  effort  than  he  had  been  in  huntino-  for 

o 

the  key  to  the  trap  door. 

He  searched,  too,  every  nook  and  corner  for  a  match,  but 
failed  utterly  to  find  one,  or  anything  to  keep  his  courage  good. 
The  situation  began  to  look  alarming  to  him.  He  was  now  as 
much  a  prisoner  as  Herbert  Randolph. 

"  I  wonder  what  Tom  Flannery  would  do  if  he  was  in  my 
place  ?  "  mused  the  young  detective,  as  he  sat  upon  the  floor, 


1 1 8  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 

somewhat  depressed  in  spirits.  "  I  think  he'd  just  lay  down  and 
bawl  and  throw  up  the  whole  game,  that's  what  Tom  Flannery 
would  do.  But  I  ain't  goin'  to  throw  up  no  game  till  it's  lost, 
not  ef  Bob  Hunter  knows  himself.  There  ain't  but  one  thing 
to  do  now,  and  that's  to  go  into  old  Gunwagner's  bedroom,  and 
take  them  keys  outer  his  pocket,  that's  what  I  think.  Ef  he 
was  to  wake  up,  tho',  and  catch  me  at  it — well,  I  guess  I  wouldn't 
be  in  the  detective  business  no  more.  But  —  what's  that 
noise  ? "  said  he  to  himself,  suddenly  becoming  aware  of  a 
strange  sound. 

Our  young  detective  felt  a  cold  chill  creep  over  him.  His 
first  thought  wTas  that  the  old  fence  was  coming  into  his  pres 
ence,  and  would  of  course  capture  him  and  punish  him  most 
inhumanly.  But  as  the  slight  noise  continued,  and  Gunwagner 
did  not  appear,  Bob  took  courage,  and  listened  keenly  for  de 
velopments.  Presently  the  sound  came  nearer,  and  now  a 
gleam  of  light  shone  up  through  a  crack  in  the  floor. 

"  Can  it  be  Vermont?"  said  Bob  to  himself,  hardly  believ 
ing  his  own  eyes. 

Still  nearer  came  the  light. 

"  He  is  climbing  the  stairs,  as  sure's  I'm  alive,"  said  Bob,  al 
most  overcome  with  joy. 

In  the  trap  door  was  a  small  knot  hole,  about  an  inch  and 
a  half  in  diameter.  Through  this  opening  the  light  now  shone 
distinctly,  and  it  was  most  welcome  to  the  eyes  of  our  young 
detective.  A  pressure  was  now  brought  to  bear  upon  the  door 
from  the  under  side,  but  it  only  yielded  so  far  as  the  fastening 
would  allow. 

"  Is  that  you,  Vermont  ?  "  whispered  Bob  through  the  knot 
hole. 

No  answer  was  given. 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  i  1 9 

Herbert  Randolph  had  never  considered  himself  in  any  de 
gree  superstitious.  But  what  could  this  be  but  Bob  Hunter's 
spirit  ? 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  said  the  young  detective,  who  imagined 
Herbert  would  find  it  difficult  to  realize  that  he  was  there. 
"  It's  Bob  Hunter.  I  ain't  got  no  card  with  me,  or  I'd  send  it 
down  to  you." 

This  remark  sounded  so  much  like  Bob  that  young  Ran 
dolph  no  longer  doubted  his  own  senses. 

"  Bob  Hunter  !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  How  in  the  world  came 
you  here,  and  what  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it's  me,  Vermont.  But  don't  stop  to  ask  no  ques 
tions  now.  I'm  here  to  help  you  get  out,  but  this  blamed  old 
door  is  locked,  and  I  hain't  got  no  key,  nor  no  light,  nor 
nothin'." 

After  exchanging  a  few  words,  Herbert  took  from  his 
pocket  a  piece  of  paper.  This  he  made  into  a  taper,  which  he 
lighted  and  passed  up  through  the  knot  hole  to  Bob.  With 
this  the  latter  lighted  the  gas  ;  and  now  he  felt  that  he  was  in 
a  position  to  be  of  some  service  to  his  friend. 

A  careful  search  failed  to  reveal  any  keys.  Then  the  two 
boys  discussed  the  situation,  and  presently  Herbert  passed  a 
bent  nail  to  the  young  detective,  and  instructed  him  how  to 
operate  on  the  lock,  which  speedily  yielded  to  the  boy's  efforts. 
In  another  instant  the  trap  door  was  thrown  up,  and,  by  a  most 
unfortunate  blunder,  it  fell  back  with  a  tremendous  crash. 

Herbert,  however,  emerged  quickly  from  his  cold,  damp 
prison,  with  a  look  of  consternation  pictured  upon  his  face. 
Both  he  and  Bob  knew  that  old  Gunwagner  would  be  upon 
them  in  less  than  a  minute,  and  they  hastily  prepared  to  defend 
themselves. 


i  20  THE  1^0  } r  13ROKER. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE    OLD    FENCE    IX    A    TRAP. 

WHAT  shall  we  do  ?  "  said  Bob,  with  no  little  alarm,  as 
Herbert  Randolph  climbed  up  through  the  old  trap 
door. 

"  We  must  defend  ourselves,"  replied  the  young  Vermonter, 
with  characteristic  firmness. 

"  There  ain't  no  way  to  escape,  is  there  ?" 

"No,  I  suppose  not,  if  the  hall  door  is  locked." 

"  It  is,  and  I  can't  find  no  key." 

"  Have  you  looked  since  the  gas  wras  lighted  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  'tain't  there  nowhere." 

"  Where  do  you  imagine  it  is  ?" 

"  I  guess  the  old  duffer  has  it  in  his  pocket,  the  same  as  he 
has  the  key  to  the  trap  door." 

"  Well,  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  Old  Gunwagner  will  be 
down  upon  us  in  an  instant." 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  bring  a  revolver  with  him  ?  "  asked 
Bob,  somewhat  nervously. 

"  Very  likely  he  will." 

"  I  guess  we'd  better  climb  down  cellar,  then,  and  pretty 
lively,  too." 

"  No,  we  won't,"  replied  Herbert,  decidedly.  "  I  have  had 
all  of  that  prison  I  want.  We  will  fight  it  out  here." 


77/7:  BOY  BROKER. 


121 


"  All  right,  then,  I'll  shut  this  door  down,  or  we  might  get 
thrown  down  cellar  in  the  tight." 

"  So  we  might,  and—  Ah,  here  he  comes  !  "  said  young 

Randolph,  detecting  the  sound  of  footsteps,  as  old  Gimwagner 
approached. 


(U  .\\VAGNKK    BURSTS    INTO    THE    ROOM    IN"    A    FURIOUS   MOOD. 

11  Stand  in  front  of  the  counter,  so  that  he  will  see  you  when 
he  opens  the  door,  and— 

"  But  the  revolver  !  "  interrupted  Bob. 

He  had  now  entirely  relinquished  the  leadership,  for  in  Her 
bert  Randolph  he  recognized  his  superior. 

"  I  was   going  to   tell   you    about   that,"  replied    our   hero. 


I  22 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"If  you  see  a  revolver  in  his  hand,  you  must  drop  behind  the 
counter  as  quickly  as  possible." 

"Yes,  and  I  won't  waste  no  time  about  it,  either." 

"  No,  you'd  better  not,"  said  the  young  Vermonter  ;  and  he 
had  barely  time  to  dart  behind  the  door,  when  old  Gunwagner 
placed  his  hand  upon  the  latch,  and  burst  into  the  room.  His 
eye  fell  upon  Hob  Hunter,  who  stood  directly  in  front  of  him, 
but  about  two  thirds  of  the  way  across  the  room. 

The  old  fence  recognized  him  instantly,  and  with  a  fiendish 
shout  made  for  the  lad,  as  if  he  meant  annihilation.  He  had 
not  proceeded  far,  however,  when  young  Randolph  bounded 
from  behind  the  door,  and  fell  upon  his  shoulders,  bearing  him 
to  the  floor. 

A  yell  of  terror  escaped  from  the  old  villain,  that  told  clearly 
of  his  alarm.  He  had  not  thought  of  Herbert  until  now.  He 
was  at  a  loss  to  know  what  caused  the  noise,  when  the  trap 
door  slipped  back  with  such  a  resounding  crash. 

But  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  Bob  Hunter,  he  readily  jumped 
at  the  conclusion  that  he  alone  had  caused  the  rumpus.  Now, 
however,  he  was  stunned  at  this  unexpected  assault  from  the 
rear.  When  Herbert  and  the  old  man  fell  to  the  floor,  Bob 
Hunter  was  quickly  at  his  friend's  side,  ready  to  take  a  hand 
in  the  struggle,  if  needed. 

While  old  Gunwagner  was  a  cruel,  heartless  man,  he  never 
theless  lacked  genuine  courage.  Like  the  majority  of  men  of 
his  class,  he  was  a  coward  at  heart.  He  therefore  readily  gave 
up  the  struggle,  when  surprised  by  Herbert  Randolph. 

"  It's  your  turn  now,  old  man,"  said  our  young  hero,  tri 
umphantly.  "  Last  night  you  pounced  upon  me,  and  seemed  to 
like  it.  Now  perhaps  you  will  enjoy  this  !  " 

A  coarse  oath,  characteristic  of  the  old  villain,  was  the  reply. 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  1 2 3 

"You  may  as  well  submit  decently.  You  are  in  our  power 
now,  and  if  you  behave  yourself,  you  will  save  us  the  necessity 
of  compelling  you  to  obey." 

The  old  fence  grated  his  teeth,  and  looked  the  very  incar 
nation  of  all  that  was  evil.  The  wicked  spirit  that  shone  in  his 
face  would  have  afforded  a  rare  study  for  a  painter.  He  made 
a  movement  of  his  right  hand,  as  if  to  reach  back  to  his  hip 
pocket.  A  movement  of  this  sort,  under  such  circumstances, 
is  considered  suggestive  of  firearms. 

Bob  did  not  wait  to  see  whether  he  was  reaching  for  a  re 
volver  or  some  other  ugly  weapon,  but  instantly  fell  upon  this 
hand,  and  secured  it.  The  other  hand  was  in  Herbert's  firm 
grasp,  so  it  was  useless  for  the  old  fence  to  struggle  further. 

"  My  turn  has  come  now  to  get  square  with  you,  you  cruel 
old  sinner,"  said  Herbert.  "  I  begged  of  you  to  take  me  out  of 
that  foul  cellar  and  away  from  those  dreadful  rats,  but  you: 
showed  no  mercy." 

Gunwagner  made  no  reply. 

"Yes,  and  he  was  pfoin'  to  send  you  off  on  some  kind  of  a 

o  J 

ship  tomorrow,  so  you  would  never  get  back  to  New  York  no 
more,"  said  Bob. 

"  Send  me  off  on  a  ship !"  exclaimed  our  hero,  with  a  shud 
der.  He  had  not  until  now  even  imagined  the  full  purpose  of 
his  enemies. 

"Yes,  that's  what  they  said  tonight,  him  and  that  Mortimer 
feller." 

"  And  you  heard  this  ?  " 

"  Yes,  when  I  was  in  that  box  under  the  counter  there,"  re 
plied  Bob,  with  enthusiasm ;  "  and  they  talked  about  bank  rob- 
bin',  too." 

At  this  revelation  old   Gunwagner  seemed  to  give  up  all 


i  24  THE  BO  Y  BR OKER. 

hope.  The  hardness  of  his  face  melted  into  an  expression  of 
pain,  and  he  trembled  with  fear,  like  the  frightened  thing  that 
he  was.  He  had  been  outwitted  by  the  young  detective. 

"  Richard  Goldvvin's  bank,  I  suppose,"  replied  young 
Randolph,  almost  dazed  at  the  audacity  of  the  villains. 

"  Yes,  that  was  their  game  in  getting  you  out  of  the  way." 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that  before." 

"  Well,  you  hain't  been  in  New  York  very  long,  and  so  you 
don't  know  the  way  they  do  things  here — them  that  is  bad,  like 
this  gang." 

"  How  did  you  find  out  where  I  was,  and  how  in  the  world 
did  you  manage  to  get  in  here  without  being  seen  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  was  a  detective,"  said  Bob,  with  a  show 
of  pride. 

"  A  detective  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  Vermonter,  looking  at 
his  friend  with  the  innocent  wonder  of  a  country  boy. 

"  Yes,  but  I  hain't  got  no  time  to  tell  you  about  it  now. 
We  must  be  movin',  you  see." 

"So  we  must,"  replied  Herbert 

Doubtless  old  Gunwagner,  too,  would  have  liked  much  to 
hear  Bob  relate  how  he  discovered  his  friend's  prison.  But 
even  this  small  satisfaction  was  denied  him. 

"  What's  the  first  move?"  said  Bob. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  about  that,"  replied  our  hero. 

"  Of  course,  we  must  have  him  arrested." 

"  Certainly  we  must." 

"  Oh,  no,  don't,  don't  !"  pleaded  the  old  man,  speaking  for 
the  first  time. 

"  It  is  too  late  to  plead  now,"  said  young  Randolph.  "  You 
should  have  thought  of  this  before  committing  the  evil  that  you 
have  done." 


THE  BO  Y  BR OKER.  1 2 5 

"  But  I  am  an  old  man,  and  he  led  me  into  it." 

"Who?" 

"  Mortimer,  Felix  Mortimer.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  him,  I 
•wouldn't  er  done  it." 

"  Oh,  that  don't  go  with  us,"  said  Bob.  "  I  heard  the  whole 
story  tonight.  You  was  into  the  game  with  him,  and  now 
you're  trapped  you  wanter  squeal,  that's  what  you  do.  But  it 
won't  do  you  no  good.  You  are  a  bad  lot  from  way  back — get- 
tin'  boys  to  steal  things  for  you  !  " 

This  was  a  revelation  to  young  Randolph,  as  he  did  not 
know  until  now  that  old  Gunwagner  kept  a  fence. 

"  Don't  have  me  arrested,  boys,"  whined  the  old  villain,  now 
trying  to  work  on  their  sympathy.  "  It  would  kill  me.  I  am 
so  old." 

"  Do  you  expect  sympathy  from  me,  after  your  heartless 
treatment  ?  "  said  Herbert. 

"He  made  me  do  it,"  was  the  reply,  referring  to  Mortimer. 

"  Nonsense,  you  could  have  taken  me  out  of  that  old  cellar 
if  you  had  wanted  to  do  so." 

"  Yes,  and  do  you  think  you  would  er  showed  me  any  sym 
pathy,  if  you'd  got  me  into  your  clutches  alone  ?"  put  in  Bob. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  been  hard  on  you." 

"  No,  you  wouldn't,"  said  the  young  detective,  sarcastically. 
"  Your  talk  tonight,  when  I  was  hid  away,  sounded  as  if  you 
wouldn't  er  been  hard  on  me — oh,  no,  you  wouldn't.  I  could 
tell  that  from  the  way  you  plunged  at  me  just  now,  when  you 
came  through  that  door  with  your  war  paint  on." 


1 26  THE  BO Y  JiROKER. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

BOB    GOES    FOR    AN    OFFICER. 

OLD  Gunwagner  saw  quite  clearly  that  any  further  effort  to 
play  upon  the  boys'  sympathy  was  useless. 

The  first  shock  of  his  surprise  was  over,  and  now  the  subtle 
cunning  of  his  nature  began  to  reassert  itself. 

"  Boys,  you  have  the  advantage  of  me  at  present,"  said  he, 
softly.  "  But  I  can't  see  how  it  will  pay  you  to  act  foolish." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Herbert. 

"  I  mean  that  it  will  pay  you  a  good  deal  better  to  make 
terms  with  me." 

"  How  so  ?" 

"  Would  you  like  to  be  rich  ?  "  was  the  reply. 

"  I  suppose  every  American  wants  to  be  rich,  and  I  guess 
we  are  no  exception,  are  we,  Bob  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  we  ain't,"  replied  the  latter. 

"So  I  thought,"  said  the  old  fence,  "  and  it's  in  my  power 
to  make  you  rich." 

The  boys  were  listening  to  subtle,  dangerous  words. 

"  How  can  you  do  that  ?"  said  Bob,  growing  interested. 

"  There  are  a  number  of  ways  that  I  might  do  it.  In  the 
first  place,  I  could  give  both  of  you  all  the  money  you  will  ever 
need,  and  still  be  rich  myself." 

"  But  a  man  isn't  likely  to  give  away  so  much, "said  Herbert. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  127 

"  You  must  have  a  payin'  business,"  observed  the  young  de 
tective. 

"  Of  course  I  must,  and  that  is  the  point  I  am  coming  at. 
You  boys  have  shown  yourselves  keen  lads,  and  I  always  like 
to  help  such  boys  along,  for  I  was  poor  once  myself.  Now  my 
proposition  is  this  :  I'll  give  you  both  a  show  in  the  business 
here  with  me." 

"  No,  sir,  thank  you,  we  do  not  care  to  go  into  a  dishonest 
business  like  this,"  said  Herbert,  emphatically,  speaking  for 
both  Bob  and  himself. 

"  Not  if  you  could  each  make  ten  thousand  a  year,  clean 
money  ?  " 

"  No  ;  not  if  we  could  make  ten  times  that,"  replied  our  hero. 

"  You  could  have  a  good  time  on  ten  thousand  a  year — 
boys  of  your  age." 

"  Not  on  stolen  money." 

"  It  wouldn't  be  on  stolen  money." 

"  It  looks  very  much  like  it,  when  you  buy  stolen  goods." 

"  Yes,  and  fix  up  a  job  for  bank  robbin',"  added  Bob. 

"  Well,  suppose  it  does  look  so,  why  couldn't  you  enjoy  the 
money  just  as  much  ?" 

"  Because  it  wouldn't  be  right   for  us  to  have  it,"  returned 

O 

our  hero. 

"  Boys,  you  are  not  so  old  as  I  am.  I've  seen  a  good  deal 
of  life.  Money  is  money,  and  it  don't  matter  where  it  comes 
from,  it  will  buy  just  as  much." 

"  It  will  not  always  buy  one  his  liberty,"  replied  young 
Randolph,  coolly. 

This  remark  came  close  home  to  the  old  fence,  and  dis 
concerted  him  for  a  minute.  Presently,  however,  he  rallied, 
and  said  : 


1 28  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 

"  Uo  you  think  one  has  his  liberty,  as  you  call  it,  when  he 
is  poor — so  poor  that  he  can  have  no  luxuries  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  he  does.      Why  not  ?" 

"You  will  change  your  mind  some  day,  and  perhaps  it  will 
be  too  late." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  never  change  my  mind  in  favor  of  dis 
honesty  and  crime." 

"  Do  you  know  that  a  boy's  chance  to  get  rich  hardly  ever 
comes  to  him  but  once  in  his  life  ?  "  continued  old  Gunwagner, 
undaunted. 

"  No,  and  I  don't  believe  it  is  so,  either." 

"  Another  evidence  of  your  inexperience.  When  you  get 
older,  you  will  look  back  and  see  what  I  tell  you  is  true  ;  and 
if  you  miss  this  chance  you  will  never  get  another  one  like  it." 

"We  don't  want  another  one  like  it,  so  it's  no  use  to  talk 
about  it  any  more." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Bob  ;  "  he  hain't  got  no  interest  in  us  ;  I 
can  see  through  his  trick." 

"You  are  mistaken,  young  man.  If  you  don't  want  to  go 
into  the  business  here  yourselves,  I'll  give  you  an  interest  in  it, 
if  you  will  do  nothing  to  injure  it.  You  see,  you  know  about 
the  business  here  now,  and  if  you  should  give  it  away  to  the 
police,  why  it  would  hurt  it,  don't  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  understand  it  too  well,  but  do  not  want  an  inter 
est  in  it,"  said  Herbert. 

"  It  would  pay  you  well,"  persisted  the  old  fence  ;  "  say 
about  seven  to  ten  thousand  dollars  each  every  year,  and  you 
needn't  come  anear  it — -just  take  your  dividends  every  week, 
and  that's  all." 

"  Well,  we  don't  want  no  such  dividends,"  said  Bob  ;  "  nor 
we  couldn't  £et  'em  if  we  did  want  'em,  that's  all." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  129 

"  You  are  mistaken  again,  for  if  you  think  the  business  don't 
pay  as  well  as  I  say,  why  I  can  show  you  the  money." 

"  Got  it  with  you  ?  "  said  Bob. 

This  question  pleased  the  old  fence,  and  gave  him  renewed 
courage.  He  thought  now  that  perhaps  there  was  yet  hope  for 
him. 

"  I  have  it  in  the  house,"  said  he. 

"  In  cash  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  can  get  it  if  you  want  to  see  it." 

"  Don't  see  how  you're  goin'  to  get  it,  the  way  you  are  fixed 
now,"  continued  Bob. 

"  Well,  if  you  will  not  let  me  go  for  it,  I  can  tell  you  where 
to  find  it." 

"  Can  you  ?     Well,  where  is  it  ?" 

"  It  is  in  my  bedroom,  in  the  further  end  of  the  house.  You 
will  find  it  in  the  thick  wallet,  under  my  pillow." 

"  Well,  we  will  take  your  word  for  it,  seein'  we  don't  need 
the  money  for  anything,  and  wouldn't  take  it  nohow,"  said  the 
young  detective,  who  divined  the  purpose  of  the  old  fence. 

"  But  if  you  don't  get  it,  how  can  I  make  you  boys  a 
present  ?  You  will  not  allow  me  to  go  for  it,"  said  the  fence, 
fearing  his  scheme  had  failed  him. 

"  We  don't  want  no  present,  so  don't  worry  yourself  about 
that." 

"  Wre  prefer  taking  you  with  us,  rather  than  the  present," 
said  Herbert. 

"  Old  man,"  continued  Bob,  "  your  game  didn't  work.  All 
you  wanted  was  to  get  me  out  of  the  way  so  you  could  er  layed 
Vermont  out.  But  it  warn't  no  cro.  You  was  too  anxious  to 

o 

give    away  money.      I    could    see    all  the  time  what  you  was 
aimin'  at." 


110 


THE  J3OY  BROKER. 


The  old  fence  pro 
tested  against  this  in 
terpretation  of  his  mo 
tives,  but  the  boys 
were  too  keen  for  him. 
Youne  Bob  Hunter 

o 

had  been  knocking 
about  the  streets  of 
New  York  too  long  to 
be  very  easily  taken 
in  by  this  old  Gun- 
wagner.  H  is  wits  had 
been  sharpened  to  a 
high  degree  in  his 
long  struggle  for 
bread,  and  his  knowl 
edge  of  human  nature 
Avasas  superior  to  that 
of  Herbert  Randolph 
as  the  latter's  general 
education  was  super 
ior  to  Bob's. 

Finding  it  impos 
sible  to  work  upon  the 
sympathy  of  the  boys, 
that  buying  them  off 
was  out  of  the  ques 
tion,  and  that  the 
scheme  to  outwit  them 
had  proved  a  flat  fail 
ure,  Gunwagner  now 


GUNWAGNER    IN   THE    HANDS   OK   THE    POLICE. 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  1 3 1 

turned  to  the  last  weapon  which  he  could  hope  to  use  with  any 
possible  effect. 

"  So  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  take  me  with  you  ?  " 
said  he,  looking-  hard  at  Herbert. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  latter,  firmly. 

"  You  will  make  the  biggest  mistake  of  your  life,  if  you  at 
tempt  such  an  outrage." 

"An  outrage!  Is  that  what  you  call  it,  when  a  detective 
takes  a  bird  like  you  in  ?"  said  Bob  Hunter,  in  his  characteristic 
manner. 

The  old  fence  looked  fiercely  at  him. 

"  My  friends  are  all  around  here,  and  I  can  raise  a  dozen  of 
them  before  you  could  get  me  half  a  block  away." 

"  We  do  not  feel  uneasy  about  your  so  called  friends,"  said 
young  Randolph.  "  But  if  you  prefer  it,  we  will  send  for  an 
officer,  and  let  him  take  you." 

"  If  your  friends  go  back  on  you  the  way  Mortimer  done 
tonight,  when  he  told  you  he  would  look  out  for  himself,  and 
let  you  fight  it  out  alone,  why,  then  I  guess  me  and  Vermont 
needn't  bother  much  about  your  gang." 

Further  intimidation  was  tried  by  Gunwagner,  but  all  to  no 
purpose,  for  now  the  boys  were  in  the  act  of  fastening  together 
the  wrists  of  the  old  fence,  and  binding  them  securely  to  a 
chair.  When  this  had  been  done,  so  that  they  no  longer  felt 
any  insecurity,  they  took  from  his  pocket  the  keys  to  both 
doors  leading  to  the  street,  and  Bob  Hunter  started  for  an 
officer.  Young  Randolph  remained  with  the  prisoner,  because 
he  was  stronger  than  Bob,  and  therefore  would  be  the  bet 
ter  able  to  handle  him,  should  he  by  any  means  get  his  hands 
loose. 

Now  every  hope  had  failed  the  old  man.      He  saw  nothing 


1 32  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 

but  Sing  Sing  before  him.  His  evil  purpose  had  at  last  re 
coiled  upon  him,  and  he  was  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  one 
who  but  a  few  hours  before  had  begged  of  him  for  mercy. 

While  waiting  for  the  return  of  Bob  with  the  officer,  Her 
bert  asked  Gunwagner  if  the  money  he  had  made  in  crooked 
and  unlawful  ways  had  brought  him  happiness.  He  made  no 
audible  reply,  but  sat  with  his  head  bent  low.  An  answer,  how 
ever,  was  conveyed  to  our  young  hero  by  a  silent  tear  that  made 
its  way  slowly  down  the  wrinkled  and  aged  face  of  the  old  man, 
whose  life  had  been  worse  than  wasted,  for  it  had  been  an  evil 
one. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

TOM    FLAXXERY    IS    HUXGRY. 

IT  was    past    midnight  when    Herbert    Randolph    and  Bob 
Hunter  reached   their  room.     The  old  fence  had  mean 
while  been  taken  to  the  station  house  by  an  officer.      Both  boys 
were    sleepy   and   well    nigh   exhausted,    so    they   immediately 
souofht  rest. 

<z> 

Bob,  however,  was  up  at  his  usual  hour  in  the  morning,  and 
off  to  look  after  his  paper  trade.  Business  proved  good  with 
him  on  this  occasion — unusually  good — so  that  his  profits 
amounted  to  quite  a  nice  little  sum.  He  therefore  planned  to 
give  Herbert  a  good  warm  breakfast,  something  better  than  it 
had  been  their  custom  to  eat. 

Presently  Tom  Flannery  appeared. 

"  You  here,  Bob  ? "  said  the  latter,  with  surprise.  "  I 
thought  you  was  done  for,  sure." 

"  What  made  you  think  that,  Tom  ?" 

"  Why,  because  you  didn't  show  up." 

"  You  didn't  wait  for  me,  did  you  ?" 

"  Didn't  I  ?  Well,  I  should  think  I  did,  till  near  twelve 
o'clock,  too,  when  I  was  so  near  froze  I  couldn't  stay  no 
longer  ;  and  Bob,  I  thought  it  was  all  up  with  you." 

"  Why,  Tom,  you  hadn't  oughter  staid.  I  told  you  to  go 
home  after  you  lit  the  fire." 


i34  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  know  you  did,  Bob,  but  I  didn't  feel  like  goin'  home  and 
leavin'  you  alone  in  that  den.  You  see  I  thought  you  might 
need  me." 

"  Tom,  you've  got  more  sand  than  I  thought  you  had.  I 
wish  I  coulder  fixed  it  so  you  coulder  been  on  the  inside  too." 

"  I  wish  you  could,  Bob.      Was  it  excitin'  ?  " 

"  Excitin' !  Well,  wasn't  it,  though  !  I  never  saw  anything 
like  it.  But  I  say,  Tom,  that  was  a  great  go.  You  done  it 
splendid." 

"What's  that,  Bob?" 

"  Why,  the  fire  act.  I  don't  believe  nobody  could  beat 
that." 

Tom  enjoyed  this  praise  hugely. 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  a'  been  in  your  place,  Bob,"  said  he, 
"  when  you  was  in  that  dark  room,  nor  when  old  Gunwagner 
and  that  other  feller  was  huntin'  for  you." 

"  No,  I  thought  you  wouldn't,  Tom,  and  I  didn't  want  to  be 
there  neither." 

"  'Twas  a  big  detective  job,  wasn't  it,  Bob  ?  " 

"Well,  'twas  a  pretty  fair  one,  I  guess." 

"  And  you  got  it  all  up  yourself,"  continued  Tom,  admir 
ingly.  "  I  wish  I  could  do  things  the  way  you  do,  Bob." 

"  Well,  you  see,  Tom,  you  hain't  had  so  much  experience 
as  what  I  have,  but  you'll  come  out  all  right,  and  make  a  big 
detective,  I  know  you  will." 

Bob  stopped  talking  to  sell  a  paper,  and  after  making 
change  and  pocketing  his  profit,  he  continued  : 

"  Now,  Tom,  I  tell  you  what  'tis:  you  and  me  and  Herbert 
will  eat  breakfast  together,  when  he  comes  down." 

"  When  will  he  be  down  ?  "  asked  Tom,  his  hand  drop 
ping  instinctively  upon  his  empty  stomach. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  135 

Tom  Flannery  was  known  among  his  crowd  of  street  lads 
as  the  hungry  boy.  He  was  always  ready  to  eat,  and  never 
seemed  to  get  enough  food  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  his  appe 
tite.  This  invitation,  therefore,  was  very  welcome  to  him. 

"It's 'bout  time  for  him  now,"  replied  Bob,  in  answer  to 
Tom's  question. 

"  I  wish  he  would  come,"  said  Tom,  looking  hungrier  than 
usual. 

"  He  is  probably  making  up  sleep,"  said  the  young  detective. 

"  How  much  sleep  has  he  got  to  make  up,  Bob  ?"  asked 
Tom,  seriously. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,  but  I  guess  pretty  near  a  whole 
night." 

"  A  whole  night  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  dubiously.  "  He  ain't 
goin'  to  make  it  all  up  this  morning,  is  he,  Bob?" 

Tom's  hand  rested  suggestively  upon  his  stomach  again. 

"  Shucks  !  Tom  Flannery,  if  you  ain't  a  idiot,  I  never  saw 
one  !  To  think  Herbert  Randolph  would  sleep  all  day  !  Didn't 
I  tell  you  he  would  be  right  down  ?  " 

"So  you  did,  Bob.  I  forgot  that;  but  you  see  I  wanted  to 
be  sure,  cause  I  haven't  had  nothin'  to  eat  yet  today." 

Bob  looked  at  his  companion  with  an  air  of  disdain,  and 
made  no  reply. 

Tom,  however,  was  not  over  sensitive,  so  he  kept  on  talk 
ing  about  Bob's  adventure  at  the  fence.  In  the  course  of  half 
an  hour  he  got  the  whole  story  from  the  young  detective.  Bob 
not  only  told  him  his  own  adventures,  but  gave  him  all  of  Her 
bert's  experience,  which  he  had  himself  learned  from  our  hero. 

It  was  now  about  a  quarter  to  nine.  Tom  looked  suggest 
ively  at  the  big  hands  on  the  City  Hall  clock,  but  said  nothing 
about  young  Randolph's  non-appearance. 


136  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  don't  see  what  keeps  him,"  said  Bob,  knowing  full  well 
what  Tom  was  thinking  about. 

"  Nor  I  don't  either,  Bob.  I  guess  he  won't  be  down  very 
early." 

"  Well,  there  wasn't  nothin'  to  bring  him  down  early." 

"  But  you  expected  him,  didn't  you,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did,  Tom  Flannery.  Didn't  I  ask  you  to  eat 
breakfast  with  me  and  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  did,  Bob,  and  that  was  what  I  was  thinking 
about." 

"  Well,  what  did  you  think  about  it  ?" 

"  I  was  wonderin'  if  you  meant  this  mornin',  or  some  other 
mornin'." 

Tom  had  hardly  finished  this  remark,  when  Herbert  Ran 
dolph  approached  from  the  Broadway  entrance  and  spoke  to 
Bob. 

"  This  is  Tom  Flannery,  what  helped  me  do  the  detective 
act,"  said  the  latter,  by  way  of  introduction.  "  You  know  I 
told  you  about  him." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,  and  I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  Tom 
Flannery,"  replied  young  Randolph,  extending  his  hand  to 
Tom. 

"  So  am  I  glad  to  see  you,"  said  young  Flannery;  "me  and 
Bob  here  have  been  waitin'  for  you  more'n  two  hours." 

"Oh,  Tom  Flannery!"  exclaimed  Bob.  "What  are  you 
talkin'  that  way  for  ?  'Tain't  a  quarter  so  much  that  we've  been 
waitin',  and  you  know  it." 

"  Seems  like  'twas  a  half  a  day  to  me,  any  way,"  protested 
Tom,  with  his  hand  again  moving  towards  the  seat  of  his  di 
gestion. 

"  The    trouble    is  with    Tom    Flannery  that    he   is  always 


THE  BO  Y  BR OKER.  1 3  7 

starvin'.  I  never  see  such  a  hungry  boy,"  explained  the  young 
detective. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  answered  Tom  ;   "  I  like  to  eat." 

Bob  explained  to  Herbert  that  they  had  been  waiting  for 
him  to  join  them  for  breakfast. 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  young  Randolph,  "  but  I  ate  my  break 
fast  on  the  way  down." 

Tom  Flannery  was  disheartened. 

"  Never  mind,  Tom,"  said  Bob  ;  "  we  will  have  the  break 
fast  some  other  mornin' — you  and  me  and  Vermont." 

When  it  was  time  for  Mr.  Goldwin  to  get  down  to  business, 
our  hero  and  the  young  detective  started  for  the  banking  house. 

A  surprise  awaited  Felix  Mortimer. 


1 38  THE  BOY  J1R OKER. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE    RIVALS    AT    THE    BANK. 

DO  you  s'pose  we  will  find  that  Mortimer  feller  at  the 
bank  ?"  asked  Bob,  as  he  and  young  Randolph  passed 
down  Broadway  towards  Wall  Street. 

"  Very  likely  we  shall,"  responded  our  hero,  absent  mind- 
edly. 

"If  he  has  heard  of  old  Gunwagner's  arrest,  you  bet  he 
won't  be  there." 

"  The  papers  contained  nothing  about  the  arrest,  did  they  ? " 

"  No,  not  as  I  seen." 

"  Then  the  chances  are  that  he  is  there." 

"  So  I  think.      But  what  will  you  do,  Vermont,  if  he  is  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  yet." 

"  You  won't  lick  him,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  that  wouldn't  be  a  wise  policy  to  pursue." 

"  But  he  deserves  it." 

"  So  he  does,  but  I  can't  afford  to  lower  myself  by  fighting." 

"That's  so,  Vermont  ;  but,  all  the  same,  I'd  like  to  see  you 
lay  him  out  once — the  way  you  did  at  Gunwagner's — he  de 
serves  it." 

"  He  deserves  to  be  punished,  but  I  think  the  law  will  do 
that." 

"  Tain't  quick  enough,"  said   Bob,   petulantly.      "A   feller 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  139 

gets  all  over  his  mad  before  he  gets  any  satisfaction  out  of 

In 
aw. 

"  You  are  a  comical  chap,  Bob,"  said  Herbert ;  "  but  you 
have  been  one  of  the  best  friends  I  ever  knew.  If  you  had  not 
come  to  my  rescue,  I  should  probably  never  have  walked  down 
this  street  again." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  replied  the  young  detective.  "  Don't 
say  nothing  about  it." 

The  two  boys  had  now  reached  the  banking  house  of 
Richard  Goldwin.  Their  conversation,  therefore,  terminated 
as  they  entered  the  bank. 

Just  as  the  door  was  opened  to  them,  Mr.  Goldwin  came 
out  of  his  private  office,  and  his  eyes  fell  upon  Herbert  and 
Bob. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  appearing  in  this  bank  again  ?'1 
he  asked,  with  a  stern  glance  at  young  Randolph. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  he  believed  the  story  told  ta 
him  by  Felix  Mortimer,  and  therefore  looked  upon  Herbert 
with  grave  suspicions,  or  even  contempt. 

The  banker's  manner  and  implied  insinuation  wounded 
young  Randolph's  pride,  and  his  cheeks  became  crimson. 

"  If  you  are  not  already  prejudiced,  I  think,  sir,  I  can  ex 
plain  to  your  entire  satisfaction,"  said  our  young  hero,  with  a 
native  dignity  well  becoming  his  manliness. 

"  It's  jest  what  I  told  you  yesterday  mornin',"  put  in  Bob. 
"  Foul  play— that's  what  it  was." 

"  I  think  I  am  not  prejudiced  to  such  an  extent  that  I  am 
incapable  of  dealing  justly  with  you,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin,  giv 
ing  no  heed  to  Bob's  remark. 

o 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Herbert.  "  I  am  sure  you  are  not,  and 
if  you  will  listen  to  me,  I  will  explain  everything." 


1 40  THE  BO  \ T  BR OKER. 

"A  mere  explanation  from  you,  however,  will  not  convince 
me." 

"  It  should  do  so,"  replied  Herbert,  still  further  wounded  by 
this  cold  remark. 

"  Not  at  all,  since  you  have  deceived  me  once." 

"  I  have  never  deceived  you,  sir,"  answered  young  Ran 
dolph,  with  spirit. 

"  Of  course  you  would  say  so,"  returned  the  banker,  coolly. 

"  Most  certainly  I  would,  sir,  when  I  am  telling-  you  the 
truth." 

"  Have  you  any  evidence  to  sustain  your  position  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Goldwin. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Herbert ;  "  my  friend  here  can  testify 
that  I  have  not  deceived  you.  He  knows  the  whole  story — the 
plot  from  first  to  last." 

Herbert  Randolph's  bold,  straightforward  manner  impressed 
the  banker  favorably,  and  he  now  became  less  frigid  towards  him. 

"  There  has  evidently  been  deception  somewhere,"  said  Mr. 
Goldwin.  "  Why  any  one  should  plot  against  you,  with  a  view 
to  getting  you  out  of  this  bank,  I  cannot  understand." 

"  I  think  Bob  Hunter  here  can  make  it  plain  to  you.  He 
knows  the  whole  scheme." 

"  And  it  warn't  no  small  scheme,  neither,"  responded  Bob. 
"  It's  lucky  for  you  that  we  got  on  to  it  before  it  was  too  late." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  this  insinuation,  young  man  ?" 

"  Well,  if  you  want  to  know,  I'll  tell  you.  Perhaps  you  re 
member  I  was  down  here  yesterday  to  see  you,  and  I  told  you 
somethin'  was  wrong  then — didn't  I  ? " 

tt    ~\  7  " 

'  Yes. 

"  And  you  didn't  believe  it,  but  just  talked  against  Herbert 
Randolph  here." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  141 

"  But  I  had  good  cause  for  doing  so." 

"  Yes,  if  you  think  that  stuff  that  Felix  Mortimer  give  you 
was  any  cause,  then  you  did  have  some  ;  but  he  was  jest  lyin' 
to  you,  that's  what  he  was  doin',  and  I  know  it  ;  and  what's 
more,  I  can  prove  it,"  said  Bob,  boldly  and  bluntly. 

"  You  are  making  a  strong  statement,"  replied  the  banker, 
somewhat  bewildered. 

"  I  know  I  am,  but  I  couldn't  say  nothin'  too  strong  about 
that  Mortimer  feller." 

"  Felix  Mortimer  is  in  my  private  office.  Dare  you  come 
in  and  face  him  with  these  remarks  ?  " 

"You  bet  I  dare — that's  jest  what  I  want  to  do." 

"You  shall  do  so,  then,"  said  the  banker. 

Herbert  Randolph  and  Bob  Hunter  followed  him,  at  his  in 
vitation,  into  his  private  room. 


1 42  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


F 


CHAPTER   XX. 

FELIX    MORTIMER    DISCOMFITED. 

HELIX  MORTIMER  sat  at  a  desk  facing  the  door,  and 
was  writing  when  the  banker  and  the  two  boys  entered 
the  room.  He  did  not  look  up  till  Herbert  and  Bob  had  ad 
vanced  several  steps  toward  him,  and  stopped.  But  his  eyes 
now  met  theirs,  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet  like  one  suddenly  sur 
prised  by  a  lurking  enemy.  Herbert  and  Bob  stood  there  for 
a  moment,  boldly  facing  him.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  on 
either  side. 

The  banker  took  a  position  where  he  could  watch  the  effect 
of  this  strange  meeting  upon  both  parties.  He  saw  the  color 
fade  from  vounof  Mortimer's  face,  and  a  look  of  unmistakable 

J  o 

fear  spread  over  it.  In  fact,  his  whole  manner  betrayed  the 
alarm  that  now  possessed  him. 

In  strong  contrast  to  the  appearance  of  this  young  villain 
was  Herbert  Randolph's  frank,  truthful  look.  He  had  no 
cause  for  fear.  The  peculiar  fire  that  shone  in  his  eyes  re 
vealed  a  meaning  that  was  at  once  impressive  and  determined. 
Before  him  stood  one  who  had  wronged  him  outrageously, 
stolen  his  position  away  from  him,  and  blackened  his  character 
with  ingenious  falsehood. 

Our  hero  thought  of  all  this,  and  his  blood  boiled  with 
manly  indignation.  Had  he  been  alone  with  Mortimer,  I  fear 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  143 

the  latter  would  have  suffered  then  and  there  the  penalty  for 
his  villainy.  But  discretion  was  now  the  sensible  course  for 
Herbert,  and  he  wisely  restrained  himself  from  an  unbecoming 
demonstration  of  hostility. 

"Do  you  know  these  young  men?"  asked  the  banker, 
sharply,  addressing  young  Mortimer. 

"  I  know  one  of  them,  sir — that  is,  I  saw  him  here  the  morn 
ing  you  advertised  for  a  boy,"  replied  Felix,  commencing  to 
rally. 

"  I  recollect  the  fact.  You  refer  to  Herbert  Randolph,  I 
presume  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I   think  you  told  me  something-  about  his  o-etting;  another 

J  <_>  O  O 

position,  and  this,  you  said,  was  probably  the  reason  why  he 
failed  to  continue  working;  at  this  bank." 

o 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Mortimer,  with  bold  effrontery. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  this  young  man's  statement,  Mr. 
Randolph  ?  "  said  the  banker. 

Felix  Mortimer's  manner  had  already  raised  Mr.  Goldwin's 
suspicions,  but  he  wished  to  be  doubly  sure,  and  thus  he  pro 
ceeded  carefully  with  the  investigation. 

"  His  statement  is  wholly  false,"  was  our  hero's  reply.  "  It 
was  his  miserable  villainy  that  deprived  me  of  my  liberty,  and 
kept  me  away  from  my  work." 

Mr.  Gold  win  looked  puzzled. 

"  The  plot  thickens,"  said  he.      "  Give  me  your  story." 

Herbert  related  how  he  had  been  victimized,  telling  the 
facts  much  as  I  have  given  them  in  the  preceding  chapters  of 
this  narrative. 

"  Tell  him  about  the  knock  out,"  put  in  Bob,  who  evidently 
thought  this  one  of  the  best  parts  of  the  story. 


1 44  THE  BO  Y  BR OKER. 

"  What  was  that?"  asked  the  banker. 

Herbert  explained. 

"  So  that  was  what  gave  you  the  swollen  jaw,  was  it  ?"  said 
Mr.  Goldwin,  addressing  P'elix  Mortimer  in  a  severe  tone. 

"  No,  it  was  not,"  said  he.  "  I  told  you  what  did  it,  and  I 
don't  propose  to  hear  any  more  lies  from  street  fellows  like 
these,"  added  Mortimer,  contemptuously,  and  at  the  same  time 
moving  towards  the  door. 

"Stop  !"  said  the  banker,  firmly.  "  You  will  not  leave  this 
room  till  this  matter  is  cleared  up." 

Young  Mortimer  winced,  and  Bob  Hunter  looked  up  at 
Herbert,  and  smiled  suggestively. 

"  Mr.  Randolph,  this  fellow  stated  to  me  yesterday  that  you 
were  not  from  Vermont,  that  you  are  an  impostor.  What  have 
you  to  say  to  this  ?  " 

"  I  can  only  say  that  I  told  you  the  truth." 

"  Have  you  any  way  of  proving  your  statement?" 

"  Here  is  a  letter  that  I  received  this  morning  from  my 
mother,"  said  Herbert,  handing  it  to  the  banker.  "  This,  I 
think,  will  sustain  my  word." 

"  The  envelope  is  postmarked  Fairbury,  Vermont,"  replied 
Mr.  Goldwin,  scrutinizing  it  closely. 

"  You  may  read  the  letter,"  said  our  hero.  "  It  will  doubt 
less  convince  you  of  my  truthfulness." 

It  ran  as  follows  : 

FAIRBURY,  Vt. ,  Thursday,  November  i2th. 
MY  DEAR  SON  : 

Your  letter  reached  us  this  evening,  and  it  lifted  a  great  load  of  anxiety  from  our 
hearts,  for  we  could  not  help  fearing  some  ill  luck  might  have  overtaken  you — a 
stranger  and  an  inexperienced  boy  in  so  great  a  city  as  New  York. 

Your  father  and  I  rejoice  at  your  good  fortune,  and  feel  proud  that  our  boy  should 
be  chosen  by  the  banker  from  among  so  large  a  number  of  applicants  for  the  same 
position.  Your  excellent  start  gives  us  fresh  courage  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  over 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  145 

again,  and  to  try  and  regain  our  property,  or  so  much  of  it  as  will  be  necessary  to 
support  us  comfortably  in  our  old  age. 

Your  father's  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  joy  when  I  read  your  letter  to  him,  and  he 
said  I  might  tell  you  that  he  feels  rich  in  the  possession  of  a  son  who  has  health, 
energy,  and  good  principles,  and  who  has  shown  himself  able  to  make  his  way  in  the 
world  unaided.  He  thinks  you  now  have  an  excellent  opportunity  for  commencing; 
a  prosperous  career.  From  what  you  wrote  of  Mr.  Goldwin,  the  banker,  we  think 
he  must  be  a  very  nice  man,  and  we  are  heartily  glad  that  you  can  have  his  influence 
thrown  about  you  to  strengthen  you  against  the  evils  you  should  shun. 

We  were  greatly  amused  at  the  picture  you  gave  of  Bob  Hunter  the  newsboy. 
You  must  find  him  very  entertaining.  Write  us  some  more  about  him.  His  droll 
talk  reads  like  a  novel.  Your  father  laughed  heartily  at  it. 

Be  sure  and  write  us  two  or  three  times  a  week,  for  you  know  we  are  entirely 
alone  now  you  are  away.  With  love  from  your  father  and  myself,  1  will  say  good  by 
for  today.  YOUR  MOTHER. 

Mr.  Goldwin  commenced  to  read  this  letter  aloud,  but  be 
fore  he  had  finished  it  his  voice  choked,  and  he  reached  for  his 
handkerchief  with  which  to  dry  his  moist  eyes. 

The  picture  it  presented  of  the  Vermont  father  and  mother, 
so  deeply  interested  in  their  only  boy,  broug-ht  fresh  to  the 
banker's  mind  his  own  parental  home,  and  he  saw  himself  once 
more  bidding  good  by  to  his  father  and  mother,  as  he  left  them 
and  the  old  farm,  a  mere  boy,  to  seek  a  livelihood  in  the  great 
metropolis. 

Presently  he  overcame  this  emotion,  and  turning  to  young- 
Randolph,  said,  sternly  : 

"This  letter,  which  I  hold  in  my  hand,  not  only  proves  Mr. 
Randolph's  truthfulness,  but  it  convicts  you  of  a  base  falsehood. 
You  deceived  me  by  your  artful  lying,  and  now  you  have  the 
effrontery  to  stand  up  before  me  and  before  this  young  man, 
whom  you  have  so  cruelly  wronged,  and  boldly  deny  every 
thing.  You  are  the  most  polished  young  villain  I  ever  knew. 

"  Young  man,"  continued  the  banker,  addressing  Bob,  and 
without  waiting  for  Mortimer  to  reply,  "  what  do  you  know 
about  this  matter  ?  " 


i46  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  guess  I  know  'bout  everything,"  said  the  young  detect 
ive,  glad  of  a  chance  to  have  his  say. 

"  You  remarked  that  it  was  lucky  that  you  found  out  some- 
thino-  before  it  was  too  late  for  us  here  at  the  bank.  I  be- 

o 

lieve  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  you  are  right." 

"  Will  you  please  tell  us  the  facts  ?  " 

Bob  related  the  conversation  he  had  heard  between  old 
Gunwacfner  and  Felix  Mortimer,  relative  to  bank  robbing. 

c>  o 

"  So  that  was  your  scheme  in  getting  in  here,  was  it  ?  you 
young  villain!"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  angrily  addressing  Felix 
Mortimer. 

"  I  refuse  to  answer  the  charges  made  by  these  confederates. 
They  are  telling  what  has  no  truth  in  it,  and  are  deceiving  you, 
as  you  will  learn  to  your  sorrow,"  replied  Felix,  still  maintaining 
a  good  degree  of  boldness. 

Richard  Goldwin,  however,  was  too  good  a  judge  of  human 
nature  to  be  further  imposed  upon  by  the  tricks  of  young  Mor 
timer. 

"  But  you  will  be  forced  to  answer  to  the  charges  sooner  or 
later,  sir,"  said  the  banker.  "  The  court  will  compel  you  to  do 
so." 

The  court  ! 

These  words  made  young  Mortimer  wince,  and  his  nerve 
palpably  weakened.      He  muttered  some  unintelligible  reply— 
whether  a  threat  or  not  none  present  knew. 

"  How  came  you  to  overhear  this  conversation  between  the 
old  fence  and  this  fellow?"  asked  Mr.  Goldwin  of  Bob  Hunter. 

The  young  detective  here  related  the  whole  story,  telling 
why  he  suspected  Mortimer,  how  he  saw  him  at  the  bank  in 
Herbert's  place,  how  he  shadowed  him  up  Broadway — told  of 


Yol'XG    RANDOLPH    AND    BOB    HUNTER   CONFRONT    FELIX   MORTIMER    AND   CHARGE    HIM 
WITH    HIS   VILLAINY. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  149 

the  bootblacking  scene,  in  which  he  got  the  essential  facts  from 
Peter  Smartweed  and  Mortimer;  related  his  manner  of  gaining 
admittance  to  the  fence,  and  told  of  the  trick  he  played  upon 
the  old  man  and  Felix — the  trick  that  enabled  him  to  carry  out 
to  success  his  scheme  for  liberating  Herbert  Randolph. 

"  And  you  did  all  of  this  alone  ?  "  asked  the  banker,  with 
genuine  astonishment. 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Bob,  carelessly,  as  if  it  didn't  amount  to 
much. 

"  I  cannot  realize  it,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  admiringly.  "  A 
professional  detective  could  not  have  done  better,  and  probably 
would  have  fallen  far  short  of  doing  as  well." 

"  I  didn't  think  nothin'  of  it,"  returned  Bob.  "  'Twas  easy 
enough,  and  'twas  kinder  of  excitin',  too." 

"And  you  liked  the  excitement?" 

Bob  admitted  that  he  did,  but  was  very  modest  about  his 
triumph,  and  was  not  disposed  to  look  upon  it  as  any  great  feat 
now  it  was  all  over.  But  Mr.  Goldwin  assured  him,  in  most 
complimentary  terms,  that  great  credit  was  due  to  him  for  the 
skill  and  bravery  he  had  displayed. 

Meanwhile  Felix  Mortimer  had  been  slyly  inching  towards 
a  door  that  was  a  little  to  his  left ;  and  now  that  Mr.  Goldwin's 
attention  was  centered  upon  young  Bob  Hunter,  he  seized  the 
opportunity,  and  made  a  mad  plunge  for  liberty.  His  move 
ments,  however,  had  been  detected  by  Herbert  Randolph,  and 
he  no  sooner  reached  the  cloor  than  the  young  Vermonter 
grasped  him  firmly  by  the  collar,  and  jerked  him  back. 

Mortimer's  effort  to  escape  prompted  Mr.  Goldwin  to  sound 
the  alarm  for  a  policeman.  An  officer  responded  promptly,  and 
immediately  arrested  the  young  criminal,  and  took  him  to  the 
station  house,  where  he  was  locked  into  a  cell. 


1 50  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 

"  I  was  never  so  deceived  in  a  boy  in  my  life,"  remarked 
the  banker,  with  a  troubled  look,  when  the  officer  had  gone 
with  his  prisoner.  "  He  has  a  remarkably  strong  character,  and 
had  he  taken  the  right  course  in  life,  would  have  made  an  able 
man.  It  always  makes  me  sad  to  see  a  bright  boy,  just  entering 
upon  his  career,  start  in  'a  way  that  is  sure  to  result  in  disgrace 
and  ruin." 

"  His  associates  have  doubtless  had  a  bad  influence  over 
him,"  said  Herbert,  as  if  trying  to  soften  the  boy's  offense. 

"  It  is  certainly  praiseworthy  in  you,  Mr.  Randolph,  to  speak 
so  kindly  of  one  who  caused  you  so  much  suffering  as  that  boy 
did,"  returned  Mr.  Goldwin. 

"  Well,  since  his  evil  purpose  has  recoiled  upon  himself,  he 
is  now  the  chief  sufferer  ;  and  besides,  I  do  not  think  he  wanted 
to  injure  me  farther  than  to  get  me  out  of  his  way.  And  he 
knew  no  other  plan,  I  suppose,  than  to  keep  me  a  prisoner." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  view  the  matter  so  charitably,"  said 
the  banker,  warmly,  for  he  appreciated  highly  this  glimpse  of 
Herbert's  character. 

"  But  what  do  you  say  to  old  Gunwagner  ?"  put  in  Bob. 

"  I  think  he  is  a  heartless  old  wretch,"  answered  young  Ra^ 
dolph,  with  fire  in  his  eyes.  "  It  is  he  who  abused  me  so 
cruelly." 

"You  say  he,  too,  is  locked  up  now?"  asked  Mr.  Goldwin. 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  think  he  has  any  property?" 

"  I  should  judge  so.  In  fact,  he  tried  to  buy  us  off  when 
he  found  we  had  him  cornered." 

"  It  is  possible  that  you  may  be  able  to  get  damages  for  false 
imprisonment,"  said  the  banker,  thoughtfully. 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  that,"  returned   Herbert. 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  1 5 1 

"  Mind  you,  I  said  it  was  possible  only,  so  do  not  have  too 
great  hopes  of  such  a  result." 

"  No,  I  will  not,  and  the  damage  was  not  much,  unless  I 
lost  my  situation  with  you,"  replied  Herbert,  somewhat  anx 
iously. 

"  No,  you  have  not  lost  that,  for  I  shall  reinstate  you  at  once. 
You  have  proved  yourself  to  be  the  sort  of  young  man  I  desire 
in  my  business." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  for  your  compliment,  and  especially  for 
reinstating  me.  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  lose  this  position, 
and  I  know  my  father  and  mother  would  feel  badly,  too." 

"  Do  not  worry  about  that,  my  boy.  Employers  are  as  anx 
ious  to  get  desirable  clerks  as  clerks  are  eager  to  be  employed. 
But  to  return  to  the  matter  of  false  imprisonment,  I  will  state 
the  case  to  my  lawyer,  and  see  what  there  is  in  it.  Of  course 
it  would  be  no  use  to  fight  him  if  he  is  worth  nothing." 

"  He  said  he  had  plenty  of  money — enough  to  make  us  all 
rich,"  put  in  Bob,  with  some  enthusiasm.  "  It  would  be  a  great 
act  to  make  him  come  down  handsome.  I'd  like  to  see  it  done." 

"  Those  fellows  usually  have  a  lot  of  money,"  said  Mr.  Gold- 
win,  "and  I  agree  with  Bob — I  will  call  you  by  that  name  here 
after — that  it  would  be  gratifying  to  recover  damages." 

"  That's  right,  I  like  to  be  called  Bob — everybody  calls  me 
that." 

"  Well,  Bob,  you  are  a  character.  I  shall  take  a  great  in 
terest  in  your  development,  for  I  think  you  have  done  the 
smartest  thing,  in  getting  your  friend  out  of  old  Gunwagner's 
clutches,  that  I  ever  knew  a  boy  of  your  age  to  do." 

Bob's  cheeks  became  highly  colored.  He  had  not  been  ac 
customed  to  praise,  and  such  compliments  as  these  from  a  rich 
banker  were  unwieldy  for  him. 


152  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Tom  Flannery  helped  me,"  said  the  young1  detective,  gen 
erously  trying  to  throw  some  of  the  glory  upon  Tom. 

"  Tom  Flannery  !     Who  is  he  ?" 

"  He  is  a  fellow  what  sells  papers  too.  Me  and  him  worked 
this  case  up  together." 

"What  sort  of  a  boy  is  he— sharp,  like  yourself,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Well,  he  done  some  good  work  helpin'  me,"  replied  Bob, 
evading  the  question  as  to  Tom's  keenness. 

The  fact  is  that  young  Flannery  was  not  wonderfully  sharp  ; 
but  Bob  liked  him  for  his  honest,  good  natured  self,  and,  there 
fore,  would  only  speak  in  praise  of  him. 

The  banker  drew  Bob  out,  and  learned  of  the  fire  act  that 
Tom  performed  so  satisfactorily.  But  his  keen  sense  detected 
the  truth  of  the  matter,  and  he  was  satisfied  as  to  where  the 
real  merit  lay. 

"  Bob,"  said  he,  "your  modesty  and  your  efforts  to  throw 
much  of  the  credit  on  Tom  Flannery  are  certainly  becoming  to 
you.  I  like  you  for  the  spirit  you  show  in  the  matter.  But, 
nevertheless,  I  recognize  in  you  the  chief  of  the  undertaking— 
the  one  who  planned  and  carried  out  the  entire  scheme.  Now, 
here  is  a  little  present  for  you  ;  I  want  you  to  take  it  and  buy 
you  a  good  suit  of  clothes,  so  that  you  will  be  as  well  dressed 
as  Herbert.  I  believe  you  room  together?" 

"  Yes,  we  do,"  said  Bob.  "  But  I  don't  want  no  present.  I 
can  earn  some  money  to  buy  clothes  with." 

"  But  I  want  you  to  take  it,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  You 
have  done  a  great  act  of  kindness  to  Herbert,  and  to  me  as 
well,  for  sooner  or  later  we  would  doubtless  have  suffered  a  loss 
by  Felix  Mortimer." 

Bob  took  the  crisp  new  bills  reluctantly — four  of  them,  five 
dollars  each — twenty  dollars— he  had  never  held  so  much 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  1 5 3 

money  in  his  hands  at  any  one  time  before,  and  this  was  all  his 
own. 

He  felt  bewildered.  After  a  moment's  pause,  however,  he 
said,  "  Mayn't  I  give  some  of  this  to  Tom  Flannery?" 

"  I  expected  you  would  say  that,"  replied  the  banker,  enjoy 
ing  Bob's  surprise,  "  so  I  retained  a  five  dollar  bill  for  Tom. 
Here  it  is  ;  give  it  to  him  with  my  regards.  He,  too,  did  us  a 
service  in  aiding  you  as  he  did." 

Bob's  joy  was  now  beyond  expression.  He  looked,  how 
ever,  the  thankfulness  that  he  could  not  find  words  to  express. 

"  You  may  go  now,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  kindly.  "  I  will  keep 
you  in  mind,  and  see  what  I  can  do  for  you.  Come  and  see 
me  within  a  few  days." 

Bob  thanked  Mr.  Goldwin  heartily,  and  left  the  bank,  over 
flowing  with  happiness.  When  the  young  detective  had  gone, 
Mr.  Goldwin  asked  Herbert  many  questions  about  him. 

"  I  think  he  is  a  promising  lad,"  said  the  banker.  "  I  have 
taken  a  great  liking  to  him.  He  has  a  droll,  comical  way  that 
is  very  pleasing." 


1 54  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

TWO    YOUNG    CAPITALISTS. 

IS  that  you,  Bob  Hunter?"  said  Tom  Flannery,  his  eyes 
opened  wide  with  surprise. 

"  I  should  think  it  is,"  laughed  the  young  detective. 

"  Say,  Bob,  where  did  you  get  'em?"  continued  Tom,  some 
what  in  doubt  of  his  own  senses. 

"  Why,  I  bought  'em,  of  course.  How  does  anybody  get 
new  clothes  ? " 

"They are  slick, though,  ain't  they,  Bob?"  said  young  Flan 
nery,  admiringly,  "  and  they  fit  stunnin',  too.  You  must  er 
struck  a  snap  somewhere,  Bob." 

"  I  should  think  I  did,"  replied  the  latter;  "the  best  snap 
any  er  the  boys  ever  struck." 

"  Bob,  you  was  always  lucky.  I  wish  I  was  as  lucky  as  what 
you  are.  I  never  strike  no  snaps,  Bob." 

"  Don't  you  ? "  said  young  Hunter,  meditatively. 

"  No,  they  don't  never  come  my  way,"  responded  Tom,  dole 
fully. 

Bob  turned  the  lapels  of  his  coat  back  and  threw  out  his 
chest  ponderously. 

"  Tom,"  said  he,  with  the  air  of  a  Wall  Street  banker, 
"  here's  a  five  for  you,"  taking  a  new,  crisp  bill  from  his  vest 
pocket. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  For  me,  Bob  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  in 
credulously. 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course  it's  for  you. 
Why  not'?  " 

"  I  don't  understand  it,  Bob,"  said 
young  Flannery,  completely  upset. 

"  Why,  it's  one  of  them  snaps.  You 
said  you  never  had  any  luck  like  me,  so  I 
thought  I'd  just  give  you  some." 

"  Bob,  you're  a  dandy.  I  never  see 
any  feller  do  things  the  way  you  do." 

"Well,  I  do 
try  to  throw  a  lit 
tle  style  into  'em, 
when  it's  handy 
to  do  it." 

"  I  sh  o  u  1  d 
think  you  do." 

"You  see, 
Tom,  it  don't  cost 
no  more  to  do 
things  as  they 
ought  to  be.  I 
believe  in  doing 
'em  right,  that's 
what  I  say." 

"But,  y  o  u 
see,  Bob,  believ 
ing  in  'em  and 
knowing  how  to 
do  'em  is  two  dif- 


155 


"TOM,"   SAID    BOB,   "HERE'S   A    FIVE    FOR   YOU." 


156  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

ferent  things.  No\v  I  believe  in  'em  just  the  same  as  what  you 
do,  but  I  can't  do  'em  the  same  way." 

"  Well,  you  ain't  so  old,  Tom." 

"  I  know  I  ain't,  but  that  don't  make  no  difference,  for  when 
you  was  no  older  than  what  I  am,  why  you  done  things  in  a 
awful  grand  way." 

Bob  here  explained  to  Tom  that  the  five  dollar  bill  was  a 
present  to  him  from  Richard  Goldwin,  the  banker,  and  told  him 
also  about  his  own  good  luck. 

"  And  he  gave  you  all  that  money  to  buy  these  new  clothes 
Avith  !  He  is  a  bully  old  fellow,  ain't  he,  Bob  ?"  said  Tom  Flan- 
nery,  greatly  astonished. 

"  I  should  say  so,"  responded  Bob.  "  But  I  didn't  spend  it 
all,  though." 

"  How  much  did  you  put  up  for  'em,  Bob  ?" 

"  Fifteen  dollars,  that's  all." 

"  They  are  swell,  though,  I  tell  you,  Bob,  and  you  look  like 
kind  of  a  masher,"  said  Tom,  criticising  them  carefully. 

o  s 

"  Well,  I  ain't  no  masher,  but  I  think  myself  they  do  look 
kinder  slick." 

"  And  you  got  five  dollars  left,  too  ?  " 

"Yes,  jest  the  same  as  what  you  have,  Tom." 

"  What  you  goin'  to  do  with  it,  Bob?" 

"  I    hain't  thought  about  that   yet.      What  you  iroin'  to  do 

O  J  J  *T> 

with  yourn  ? " 

"  I  guess  I'll  keep  it,  Bob,  till  next  summer,  and  put  it  up 
on  the  races." 

"What  do  you  want  to  do  that  for,  Tom  Flannery?"  re 
turned  Bob,  with  disgust. 

"  Why,  to  make  some  money,  of  course." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  will  make  it  ? " 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  1 5 7 

"  Of  course  I  am,  Bob.  Nobody  what  knows  anything  at 
all  can't  lose  when  he  has  so  much  as  five  dollars  to  back  him. 
It's  them  that  don't  have  nothin'  what  gets  broke  on  racin'." 

"  You  know  all  about  it,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  I  do,  Bob  ;  I've  made  a  stake  lots  of 
times." 

"  And  lost  lots  of  times,  too,  I  s'pose." 

"  Well,  that's  because  I  didn't  have  enough  capital." 

"  But  answer  me  this,  Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob,  pointedly : 
"  You  admit  you  did  get  wiped  out  at  bettin',  do  you  ?" 

"  Well,  yes,  I  s'pose  I  did,  Bob." 

"  And  you'll  get  broke  again,  if  you  go  at  it.  I  tell  you, 
Tom,  they  all  get  left,  them  that  bets  on  horse  racing." 

"  But  don't  some  of  them  make  slats  of  money?  Answer  me 
that." 

"They  don't  make  no  money  what  sticks  to  'em." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Bob?  I  don't  understand." 

"  I  mean  that  they  lose  it  the  same  way  they  make  it,  so  it 
ilon't  stick  to  'em.  Do  you  see  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  see.  But  how's  a  feller  like  me  goin'  to  make  any 
money,  Bob,  if  he  don't  bet  any  ?  " 

"  Now,  Tom,  you're  gettin'  to  somethin'  I've  been  thinkin' 
about,  and  I'll  let  you  into  the  secret.  You  see,  Tom,  I  don't 
believe  in  horse  bettin'  the  way  you  do,  but  I  ain't  afraid  to 
take  chances  all  the  same." 

"  What  is  it,  Bob  ?"  interrupted  Tom,  eager  to  get  into  the 
secret. 

"  Wall  Street,"  replied  Bob,  striking  the  attitude  of  a  money 
king. 

"Do  you  mean  it,  Bob?  "asked  young  Flannery,  incredu- 
louslv. 


158  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Of  course  I  mean  it,  Tom.  There's  piles  of  money  down 
there." 

"  I  know  there  is,  Bob,  but  how  are  fellers  like  you  'n'  me 
going  to  get  it?" 

"  Why,  by  speculating  of  course.  How  does  any  of  'em 
make  it  ?  " 

"Them  fellers  are  all  rich,  Bob.  They  didn't  go  down 
there  the  same  as  what  we  would  go,  with  only  five  dollars,"  re 
plied  Tom. 

"They  didn't,  did  they?  Well,  tell  me  if  Jay  Gould,  and 
the  old  man  Sage,  and  half  a  dozen  more  of  them  big  fellers, 
didn't  go  into  Wall  Street  without  a  cent  ? " 

"  I  can't  tell  you,  Bob  ;  I  never  heard  anybody  say,"  an 
swered  Tom,  humbly. 

"  Well,  Tom  Flannery,  I  should  think  you  would  find  out 
such  things.  Don't  you  never  want  to  know  anything?" 

"  I  ain't  been  thinkin'  about  Wall  Street,  and  them  fellers 
you  speak  about,  Bob,"  apologized  Tom.  "  But  I  wish  you'd 
tell  me  about  'em,  for  I'd  like  to  know  how  they  made  their 
money." 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you  some  other  time,"  said  Bob,  with  assumed 
ease.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  he  did  not  know  himself, 
but  was  not  willing  to  admit  so  much  to  Tom.  He  therefore 
decided  to  change  the  subject  at  once  before  getting  cornered. 

"  Now,  Tom,"  he  continued,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is.  I've 
jest  thought  what  we'll  do,  you  'n'  me  and  Herbert." 

"  What  is  it,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see  we  got  knocked  out  of  our  breakfast  this 
morning,  Tom,  so  I  think  the  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  have  a 
big  dinner  tonight." 

"  I  think  so  too,  Bob,"  said  Tom,  eagerly. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  159 

"  You  see,  'twould  be  a  celebration  of  the  way  we  worked 
the  detective  business." 

"  So  'twould,  Bob.     That's  a  good  idea,  I  think." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  Tom,  and  we'll  have  a  regular  first  class 
lay  out." 

"  It  will  be  immense,  Bob,  I  know  'twill,"  said  Tom,  with 
enthusiasm.  "  I  never  had  a  big  dinner,  Bob." 

"  Xo,  I  should  think  you  never  did,  but  you  won't  be  hun 
gry,  Tom,  when  you  get  done  with  the  one  we  will  have  to 
night." 

"  I  hope  I  won't,  Bob." 

"So  do  I,"  answered  Bob,  comically. 

"  When  will  Herbert  be  here  ?"  asked  Tom,  looking  at  the 
lartre  Tribune  clock. 

o 

"  It's  time  for  him  to  show  up  now." 

"  I  should  think  so,  too,"  replied  Tom,  with  an  expression 
of  doubt. 

He  was  thinking  about  that  morning's  experience  when  Her 
bert  failed  to  appear  till  after  he  had  breakfasted. 

In  a  little  time  young  Randolph  joined  them.  He  was  as 
much  surprised  as  Tom  had  been  at  the  change  made  in  Bob's 
personal  appearance  by  his  handsome  new  suit. 

"  You  must  go  down  and  let  Mr.  Goldwin  see  you  with  it 
on,"  said  he. 

"When  shall  we  start,  Bob?"  put  in  Tom  Flannery,  who 
couldn't  see  the  propriety  in  delaying  dinner  simply  to  discuss 
new  clothes. 

"  Are  you  so  very  hungry?"  laughed  Bob,  good  naturedly. 

"  I  should  think  I  am,  for  I  haven't  had  no  dinner." 

"  It  don't  make  no  difference,  Tom,  whether  you  did  or  not. 
You'd  be  starvin'  all  the  same." 


1 60  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it;  I  think  it's  time  to  eat,  don't  you, 
Herbert  ? " 

"  Yes,  it  is  about  time  for  dinner,"  replied  our  hero.  "  Are 
you  ready  to  go,  Bob  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  we  won't  go  up  to  the  Boss  Tweed  tonight,"  re 
plied  the  young  detective,  somewhat  pompously. 

"  Bob  is  goin'  to  ask  us  up  town  for  a  big  lay  out,"  said  Tom. 

Herbert  looked  doubtful. 

"  That's  so,"  said  Bob.  "  We  will  have  kind  of  a  blow  out 
all  by  ourselves." 

"  And  shall  we  do  the  town  afterwards,  as  the  bloods  say  ? " 
asked  Tom. 

"  What  does  '  doing  the  town  '  mean  ?  "  asked  Herbert. 
The  expression  was  new  to  him. 

"  It's  goin'  round  and  seeing  the  sights,"  replied  Bob.  "  But 
come,  let's  be  movin'.  We  can  talk  about  doin'  the  town  while 
we  are  at  dinner." 

"  So  I  say,"  said  Tom,  with  characteristic  hunger. 


THE  BO  Y  BR OKER.  1 6 1 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE    GREAT    BANQUET. 

GEWHITTAKER  !  this  is  splendid,  Bob.  I  didn't 
think  we  was  coming  to  no  such  tony  place  as  what 
this  is,"  said  Tom  Flannery. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  it  wa'n't  no  Jim  Fisk  or  Boss  Tweed 
ranch  ?  "  replied  Bob. 

"  So  you  did,  Bob  ;  but  you  see  I  didn't  know  about  them 
big  glass — what  do  you  call  'em  ? " 

"  Chandeliers,"  suggested  Herbert. 

"  Chandeliers,  that's  it  ;  but  ain't  they  stunnin',  though  ?  " 

"  Well,  there  ain't  nothin'  mean  about  'em,  I  should  think," 
answered  Bob. 

"  No,  nor  'bout  anything  here,"  said  Tom.  "  I  never  see  so 
much  style  slung  round  before,  did  you,  Herbert  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  young  Randolph,  carelessly. 

"  Say,  Tom,  don't  make  so  much  fuss  about  this  place. 
'Tain't  nothin'  ;  no,  'tain't  nothin',  Tom,  beside  some  er  the 
tony  places  further  up  town." 

A  waiter  now  came  along  and  handed  a  bill  of  fare  to  Bob, 
and  took  away  the  glasses  to  fill  them  with  ice. 

"  Do  them  fellers  always  dress  up  so  with  a  swallow  tail  on. 
Bob  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  Yes,  at  a  swell  place,  like  this  is,  they  do,"  answered  Bob. 


162  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Now  that  waiter  he  will  be  right  back  and  want  our  orders. 
The  first  thing  is  soup,  and  there's  three  kinds — potagc  Juli 
enne,  supreme,  and  consomme  a  la  royalc.  Which  will  you  have, 
Herbert  ?" 

"You  may  give  me  the  potagc  Julienne"  replied  the  young 
Vermonter. 

"  Say  'em  again,  Bob  ;  I  didn't  quite  catch  'em  before,"  said 
Tom. 

Bob  smiled,  and  obeyed  the  request. 

"  Why  not  have  'em  all,  Bob?"   said  Tom,  eagerly. 

"''Cause  'tain't  regular  to  do  that  way." 

"  Well,  they  are  all  on  there  for  us,  ain't  they?" 

41  They  are  on  for  us  to  take  whichever  one  we  want." 

*'  And  I  can't  have  but  one  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Well,  I  thought  at  these  er — what  do  you  call  'em  ? — din 
ners  a  feller  had  everything  in  the  old  bill,  if  he  wanted  it." 

"  Table  cT Iwte,  you  mean,  Tom  Flannery,  but  you're  way 
•off,  you  are  ;  nobody  ever  has  everything." 

Tom  looked  disappointed,  even  sad. 

"  Well,"  continued  Bob,  "  I'm  waiting  for  your  order. 
Which  soup  will  you  have  ?  " 

"  Which  you  goin'  to  have,  Bob?" 

"  I'm  goin'  to  have  the  consomme." 

"  Then  I'll  take  the  other  one,"  said  Tom. 

"'  The  supreme  ?" 

•"  That's  him,"  replied  Tom. 

•"  Why  do  you  prefer  that  ?"  laughed  Herbert. 

"  Well,  you  see,  it  sounds  better.  That  one  that  Bob  has 
took  I  can't  make  no  sense  out  of  it  nohow,  and  I  don't  believe 
It's  good  to  eat,  either — anything  with  a  name  like  that." 


THE    GREAT    BANQUET. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  165 

"  But  the  name  of  your  soup  is  not  much  better." 

"  That's  so,  Herbert.  Blamed  if  I  know  what  they  wants 
to  put  such  stuff  on  fer  a  feller  to  eat  fer,"  said  Tom,  with  an 
air  of  disgust. 

"  Well,  Tom,  you  may  as  well  get  used  to  these  names,  for 
you'll  get  a  lot  of  'em  before  you  get  through  this  bill,"  said 
Bob,  laughing. 

"  Them  names  don't  go  all  the  way  through,  do  they,  Bob  ?  " 
asked  Tom,  alarmed. 

"Yes,  plumb  through  to  the  end." 

"  Well,  that  will  spoil  my  dinner,  then,  for  I  don't  know 
nothing  about  such  words." 

"  No,  I  guess  it  won't  spoil  your  dinner,  Tom  ;  I'll  bet  you 
will  eat  like  a  hungry  tramp  before  we  get  through." 

"  Maybe  I  will,  Bob  Hunter,  but  I'd  like  to  know  what  I'm 
eatin'  all  the  same,"  replied  Tom,  somewhat  indignant.  He 
did  not  like  to  be  compared  to  a  hungry  tramp. 

"That's  all  right,  Tom  Flannery ;  now  don't  you  get  off 
your  base  so  sudden  like.  You  will  think  you  never  struck 
a  lay  out  like  this  before  you  get  half  way  down  the  bill,"  said 
Bob,  trying  to  restore  good  feeling. 

"  Well,  I  hope  I  will,  that's  what  I  say.  A  feller  ought  to 
get  something  good  when  he  has  to  wade  through  such  blamed 
old  names  as  these,  that  don't  mean  nothin'." 

"  But  they  do  mean  something  jest  as  much  as  what  our 
words  mean  to  us." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Bob  Hunter,  that  anybody  uses 
these  words  ?" 

"  Of  course  they  do,  Tom.     They  are   French  words,   and 
French  folks  know  what  they  mean." 

Tom  thought  for  a  moment  ;  then  he  said  : 

O 


1 66  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  was  way  off,  Bob.  I  thought  it  was  some  words  jest 
made  up  for  this  bill,  'cause  you  see  I  don't  know  nothin'  about 
French." 

The  waiter  now  reappeared,  bringing  with  him  two  long  rolls 
of  French  bread,  a  supply  of  butter,  and  three  glasses  of  ice 
water. 

Presently  the  soup  was  brought  on. 

"  Sail  right  in  now,  Herbert,  you  arid  Tom,"  said  Bob.  "The 
next  course  will  be  right  along." 

Tom  took  a  few  drops,  timidly,  then  a  larger  portion — less 
timidly — and  now  he  put  on  a  full  head  of  steam  and  worked 
the  spoon  like  a  trip  hammer. 

When  his  plate  was  empty  he  said  :  "  I  think  I  struck  it 
right,  Bob  ;  I  knew  I  hit  the  best  name." 

"  Why,  was  yours  good,  Tom  ?"  replied  Bob. 

"I  should  think  it  was,  Bob.  It  was  way  up,  that's  what  it 
was.  You  see  'tain't  always,  Bob,  that  a  feller  can  pick  a 
winner  the  first  time." 

"  Now  you're  givin'  us  some  more  of  your  horse  racin'  ex 
pressions,  Tom.  Can't  you  never  let  'em  alone,  'specially  at  a 
tony  dinner  like  this  is  ?"  said  Bob. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  think  about  that,  Bob.  I  didn't  mean  to  do 
nothin'  wrong.  But  you  see,  Bob,  I  didn't  know  of  no  other  way 
to  get  at  it.  This  orderin'  stuff  by  these  blamed  words  is  takin' 
chances — what  I  call  bigger  chances  than  bettin'  on  a  horse 
race." 

Young  Randolph  and  Bob  laughed  heartily  at  Tom's  re 
marks. 

The  next  course  was  now  put  on  the  table.  It  came  in  a 
large  platter.  Three  plates  were  placed  before  Bob,  and  he 
served  the  fish  and  potatoes  in  a  very  creditable  manner. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  167 

"  Now  comes  the  entrees,''1  said  Bob. 

"  What  are  them  things,  Bob?"  said  Tom,  while  ravenously 
devouring  the  portion  before  him. 

"  Well,  I  was  jest  goin'  to  give  'em  to  you  when  you  busted 
in  on  me,"  replied  Bob.  "  Here  they  are  : 

"  Fillet  pique. 

"  Fricandeau  dc  Vcau. 

"  Pates  aux  huitrcs." 

"  Can't  a  fellow  get  more'n  one  go  at  'em,  Bob  ?"  said  Tom, 
comically. 

*l  That's  all,  only  one  go,  Tom ;  which  will  you  have  ?" 

"  I'll  take  the  first  one,  Bob." 

"  The  fillet  pique?" 

"Yes,  if  that's  the  first  one." 

"  Well,  'tis;  but,  Tom,  you're  way  off.  You  didn't  pick  no 
winner  this  time,  as  you  say,  for  that  dish  ain't  no  good." 

"  Where  did  you  get  on  to  them  blamed  names,  Bob  ? 
You're  slingin'  jest  as  much  style  here,  too,  as  you  did  in  the 
detective  business." 

"  Well,  why  wouldn't  I  know  'bout  'em,  Tom  ?  Didn't  I 
work  in  one  of  these  places  for  a  good  while,  and  didn't  I  pay 
some  attention  to  the  way  things  was  done?" 

"  So  you  did,  Bob  ;   I  didn't  think  about  that." 

"I,  too,  have  been  surprised,  Bob,  to  see  how  familiar  you 
seemed  with  the  various  dishes,"  said  Herbert. 

"  Well,  that's  how  it  come.     You  see  I  picked  it  up." 

"  But  you  are  as  much  at  ease  serving  the  dinner  as  I  am 

O 

at  eatinof  it." 

<^> 

"How  much?"  said  Bob,  feeling  in  his  pocket  for  loose 
change. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Herbert,  seriously. 


1 68  T11K  no  \ r  BR OKER. 

Bob  smiled,  and  Tom  burst  into  a  characteristic  laugh.  It 
was  the  first  time  since  the  dinner  commenced  that  he  had  seen 
the  funny  side  of  anything.  Tom  Flannery  was  not  given  to 
looking  upon  the  comical  side.  He  was  too  credulous  for  that ; 
but  when  anything  did  strike  him  as  funny,  and  he  made  up 
his  mind  to  treat  it  as  such,  the  outburst  of  laughter  that  fol- 

o 

lowed — laughter  that  was  rich  and  childlike — was  something  to 
do  one  good. 

Now,  there  was  nothing  especially  bright  or  funny  about 
Bob's  remark  that  should  have  caused  Tom  to  become  so  hilar 
ious.  In  fact,  it  was  more  Herbert's  serious  manner,  than  what 
Bob  said,  that  set  him  off. 

"'Twasan  old  chestnut,  any  way,  Bob,"  as  Tom  said  the 
next  day;  "but  Herbert  looked  so  honest  about  it,  jest  as  if 
you  wasn't  talkin'  jokes,  that  it  jest  made  me  lay  myself  out 
and  shout.  I  couldn't  er  stopped,  Bob,  ef  it  had  killed  me." 

When  the  laughter  had  subsided,  Bob  explained  his  joke  to 
Herbert,  and  then  said: 

"You  have  not  told  me  what  you  will  have.  Here  comes 
the  waiter  for  our  orders." 

"You  order  'em,  Bob,"  said  Tom.  "You  know  what's 
good." 

"  That  is  a  orood  suimestion,  Tom,  and  meets  with  my  ap- 

O  OO  '  1 

proval,"  remarked  Herbert. 

Bob  accordingly  ordered  for  all  three,  and  his  selection  gave 
excellent  satisfaction  to  his  guests. 

The  next  course  was  simply  maccaroni,  cooked  in  the  Italian 
style,  with  tomato  dressing. 

"  This  is  bang  up,  Bob,"  said  Tom  Flannery,  smacking 
his  lips.  "  Them  Eyetalians  are  some  good  after  all,  ain't 
thev  ?" 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  169 

Roast  duck  followed  the  maccaroni,  with  jelly,  and  fine  cut 
celery  with  dressing. 

Then  came  ice  cream,  followed  by  cheese — -frontage  de  Brie. 

"  Hob,  there's  somethin'  wrong  about  this,"  said  Tom,  seri 
ously,  referring  to  the  last  course.  "  Jest  get  on  to  that  piece, 
will  you  ?"  and  Tom  passed  his  portion  to  Bob. 

"  Uon't  be  a  fool,  now,  Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob,  with  as 
sumed  displeasure,  while  he  struggled  hard  to  keep  from 
SfisfSflinsf. 

•O     O  O  O 

"  Well,  I  ain't  no  fool,  Bob  ;  I  guess  I  know  when  I  know 
a  thing,"  said  Tom,  indignantly.  "  I  tell  you  that  piece  is  all 
spoilt,"  and,  to  make  sure  of  his  statement,  he  took  it  in  his 
fingers,  and  without  regard  to  good  manners  placed  it  close  to 
his  nose,  and  gave  it  a  genuine  test. 

Bob  threw  himself  back  in  the  chair,  and  exploded  with 
lauo-hter.  Herbert  did  likewise.  But  Tom  was  mad.  He 

o 

thought  Bob  had  played  a  trick  on  him,  and  he  said  : 

"  I  don't  intend  to  be  imposed  upon  in  any  such  way  as 
what  this  is,  Bob  Hunter.  I'll  show  you  that  I  can  put  up  jobs, 
too,  ef  you  think  it  is  so  much  fun." 

Now  Brie  cheese  is  somewhat  soft,  so  much  so  that  it  many 
times  adheres  slightly  to  whatever  it  touches.  Tom  had  rashly 
taken  it  up  in  his  fingers,  and  now,  while  breathing  forth  malice 
and  threats  against  Bob,  he  chanced  to  put  his  fingers  up  to 
his  mouth.  This  brought  them  again  in  close  proximity  to  his 
nose. 

"  Gewhopper !"  yelled  Tom,  as  he  thrust  his  hand  into  his 
trousers  pocket  with  a  view  to  better  protecting  his  nose.  "  I 
wouldn't  er  thought  this  of  you,  Bob  Hunter!" 

Both  Bob  and  Herbert  were  convulsed  with  laughter,  and 
were  holding  their  sides  from  pain. 


i  70  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 

From  the  fact  that  they  laughed  so  uncontrollably,  and  that 
they  did  not  deny  his  charge,  Tom  felt  sure  that  he  had  been 
made  the  butt  of  a  foul  joke,  and  he  resented  it  spunkily.  This 
of  course  only  made  the  situation  more  ridiculous,  and  the  more 
Tom  said,  the  harder  Bob  and  Herbert  laughed.  At  length, 

o  c> 

however,  Bob  quieted  down  sufficiently  to  remark  : 

"  Tom,  listen  to  me.     You're  the  biggest  fool  I  ever  see." 
"  Yes,  you  think  you've  made  a  fool  of  me,  don't  you,  Bob 

Hunter?     But  you  hain't,  for   I   got  on  to  your  game  before   I 

got  any  er  that  durned  stuff  into  my  mouth." 

"  Oh,  don't  you  be  so  ignorant,  Tom  Flannery.   The  trouble 

is  with  you,  you're  a  chump,  you  don't  know  nothin'  about  livin' 

at  high  toned  places  like  this  is." 

"No,    nor   I   don't  want  to  nuther,  Bob  Hunter.      Ef  that 

stuff   is   what   you   call    high   toned  livin',  why  I  don't  want  no 

more  of  it  in  mine.      I'll— 

In  the  excitement  of  the  conversation,  Tom  forgot  to  keep 

his  hand   housed   up   longer  in  his  pocket,  and  now  the  tips  of 

his   fingers   unconsciously   found   their  way   close   to   his   nose 

again. 

<_> 

This  was  what  caused  Tom  to  break  off  his  sentence  so 
abruptly.  He  didn't  say  anything  for  a  minute,  but  he  looked 
a  whole  volume  of  epithets. 

Herbert  and  Bob  started  in  on  another  round  of  laughter 
that  still  further  irritated  Tom. 

"  I'm  goin',"  said  he,  slinging  his  napkin  savagely  upon  the 
table;  "  I  won't  stand  this  business  no  more,  Bob  Hunter." 

"Sit  down,  Tom, "commanded   Bob;  "there's  more  to  come 
yet.      You  hain't  had  no  coffee  yet,  nor  nuts  and  raisins." 

Tom  immediately  replaced  the  napkin  in  his  lap,  and   pulled 
up  to  the  table  again.     Coffee,  nuts  and  raisins !     Oh,  no,  Tom 


THE  B  O  Y  BR  OKER.  1 7 1 

Flannery  couldn't  allow  his  grievance  to  deprive  him  of  these 
luxuries  ! 

"  Now,  Tom,"  said  Bob,  "  I  jest  want  to  show  you  that 
you've  made  a  fool  of  yourself,  and  that  we  hain't  made  no 
fool  of  you.  Of  course  we  couldn't  help  laughin'  to  see  you 
actin'  so  redikerlus,  Tom,  and  all  about  a  little  piece  of  cheese, 
too.  A  feller  would  er  thought,  Tom,  that  you'd  been  dumped 
in  a  sewer,  to  see  you  carry  on  ;  but  when  you  get  one  er 
them  crazy  notions  in  your  head,  why,  there's  no  doin'  anything 
with  you,  but  to  let  you  sail  in  and  enjoy  yourself." 

Bob  then  ate  his  choice  bit  of  Brie  with  a  keen  relish,  much 
to  the  surprise  of  Tom,  and  I  may  say  Herbert  as  well,  for  the 
latter's  taste  had  not  been  educated  up  to  the  point  where  he 
could  eat  such  food. 

At  length  reconciliation  was  reached,  and  Tom  was  once 
more  happy.  When  the  coffee  had  been  drunk,  the  three  boys, 
while  eating  nuts  and  raisins,  discussed  the  problem  of  money 
making. 

"  How  about  the  Wall  Street  racket?"  remarked  Tom. 

"You  refer  to  speculating,  I  suppose?"  replied  Herbert. 

"Yes.      You  see  my  capital  ain't  earnin'  me  nothin'." 

"  Well,  I  have  had  very  little  time  to  think  about  that  since 
we  first  spoke  of  it.  In  fact,  I  am  not  in  favor  of  the  idea." 

"What!  not  in  favor  of  spekerlatin'  ?"  said  Bob,  with  as 
tonishment. 

"  Nuther  am  I,"  put  in  Tom,  wisely  ;  "  I  don't  think  it's 
safe." 

"  But  you  think  it's  safe  to  bet  on  horse  racin',  don't  you, 
Tom  Flannery  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  safer'n  what  spekerlatin'  is,  that's  what  I  think, 
Bob  Hunter." 


I  72 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  Humph  !     You  know  a  lot,  don't  you,  Tom  Flannery  ?" 
"No,  I  don't  know  a  lot  about  them  Wall   Street  schemes, 

ef  that's  what  you  mean ;  but   I   guess  I  can  pick  a  winner  at 

>  » 
racin . 

"  Well,  ef  you  don't  know  nothin'  about  spekerlatin',  how 
are  you  goin'  to  use  any  judgment  ?  Tell  me  that  now,  Tom 
Flannery." 

"  You  kinder  want  to  bulldoze  me,  don't  you,  Bob  Hunter? 
You've  got  your  head  sot  on  spekerlatin',  and  you  want  to  make 
me  think  jest  like  you  do." 

"  You  tire  me,  Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob,  with  a  great  show 
of  disgust.  "I'd  try  and  have  some  sense,  ef  I  was  you." 

"  All  right,  Bob,  then  I'll  try  'n'  have  some  sense — I'll  do 
jest  as  you  say,  and  spekerlate  till  my  five  dollars  is  all  blowed 
in.  Now,  does  that  satisfy  you,  Bob?" 

Tom  Flannery  had  almost  always  yielded  readily  to  Bob's 
judgment.  This  sudden  independence  of  opinion,  therefore, 
was  a  surprise  to  young  Hunter. 

"Why,  that's  all  right,  Tom,"  said  he,  instantly  changing 
his  attitude.  "  I  don't  care  nothin'  about  your  spekerlatin'  ef 
you  don't  want  to  ;  but  I  want  to  make  some  money,  that's 
what  I  do,  and  I  thought  you  did  too,  Tom." 

"So  I  do,  Bob,  so  I  do;  but  you  see  so  many  folks  loses 
money  down  there  in  Wall  Street,  and  some  of  them  big 
fellers,  too,  with  heaps  of  money,  just  dead  loads  of  it,  to  back 
'em." 

"  Well,  that's  so,  Tom,  I  know  they  loses  sometimes,  but 
don't  lots  of  'em  make  money?  Now  answer  me  that." 

"  Yes,  you  are  right,  Bob,  they  do  some  of  'em  strike  it 
rich,  but  as  you  said  about  the  racin'  I  guess  the  money  ain't 
good  money,  fer  it  don't  stick  to  "em." 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  1 73 

"  Well,  I  should  think  it  stuck  to  Jay  Gould,  didn't  it?" 

"Yes,  he  is  one  of  the  few  successful  ones,"  said  Herbert, 
answering  the  question  for  Tom. 

"  Yes,  but  there  are  lots  and  lots  of  them  kings  of  Wall 
Street,"  persisted  Bob,  who  had  a  strong  desire  to  become  a 
speculator. 

"So  there  are,  Bob,"  replied  Herbert,  "but  they  do  not 
hold  their  rank  throughout  their  lives.  A  man  that  is  called  a 
king  in  Wall  Street  one  day,  may  be  a  beggar  the  next  day." 

"Think  of  that,  Bob,"  put  in  Tom  Flannery,  exultantly. 

"  Well,  I  know,  but  then  them  kings  don't  all  go  up  like 
that." 

"  But  the  majority  of  them  do.  If  you  will  get  a  book  that 
gives  the  history  of  Wall  Street,  you  will  be  surprised  to  see 
how  thousands,  hundreds  of  thousands,  and  even  millions,  are 
swept  away  almost  without  warning." 

"Whew!  just  think  of  it!  A  whole  million  dollars !"  ex 
claimed  Tom.  "Say,  Herbert,  how  much  is  a  million  dollars? 
It  must  be  a  whoppin'  big  pile,  that's  what  I  think." 

"  A  million  dollars — let  me  see,  Tom,  how  I  can  explain  it 
so  that  you  will  comprehend  its — 

"So  I  will  what?"  interrupted  Tom,  doubtful  of  the  mean 
ing  of  the  word  "comprehend." 

Herbert  made  this  clear,  and  then  said  : 

"  Now,  Tom,  you  have  a  five  dollar  bill,  and— 

"Yes,  and  it's  a  new  one,  too,  crisp  as  a  ginger  snap,"  in 
terrupted  young  Flannery. 

"  All  right,  then,  a  new  five  dollar  bill.  Now,  suppose  you 
had  altogether  twenty  bills  just  like  this  one,  you  would  have 
how  much  money  ? " 

"  Can  you  tell,  Bob?"  said  Tom,  grinning. 


i  74  T1IK  BO  } '  BROKJiR. 

"Why,  of  course  I  can!"  replied  Bob,  throwing  his  head 
back,  proudly. 

"Well,  let's  see  ef  you  can." 

"  One  hundred  dollars,"  answered  Bob. 

"I  guess  that's  right,  Herbert,  a  hundred  dollars;  but  I 
never  see  so  much  money  all  at  one  time,  did  you,  Bob  ?" 

Herbert  proceeded  with  the  illustration  by  saying- : 

"  Then,  Tom,  you  understand  how  many  five  dollar  bills  it 
takes  to  make  one  hundred  dollars.  Now,  it  would  require  ten 
one  hundred  dollar  bills  to  make  one  one  thousand  dollar  bill." 

"  Gewhopple  !  that's  climbin'  up,  ain't  it,  Bob?"  exclaimed 
Tom,  incredulously. 

"  Oh,  but  that's  nothing,"  said  Herbert.  "Just  listen  :  It 
would  take  a  hundred  one  thousand  dollar  bills  to  make  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  it  would  require  ten  times  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars  to  make  one  million." 

"  Well,  that's  fur  enough,"  said  Tom,  scratching  his  head. 
"  Don't  give  me  no  more  tonight,  for  I  can't  take  it  in  noway. 
A  million  dollars  ;  and  you  say  some  er  them  kings  loses  so 
much  money  as  all  this  in  almost  no  time?" 

"Why,  yes;  perhaps  in  a  single  day,"  answered  Herbert. 

"And  you  think,  Bob  Hunter,  that  we  could  go  down  there 
with  only  five  dollars  apiece  and  lay  out  them  kings  and  scoop 
the  boodle,  do  you  ?  Now,  answer  me  that." 

"  Well,  it  does  seem  kinder  like  takin'  chances,  ef  them  fel 
lers  loses  money  like  that." 

"  Of  course  it  does,  Bob,  fer  you  see  we  wouldn't  have  but 
one  go  at  the  game  with  only  five  dollars  ;  would  we,  Her 
bert  ?  " 

"  Five  dollars  wouldn't  go  very  far,  for  a  fact,"  replied  Her 
bert,  "and  in  my  opinion  it  would  be  lost  very  quickly." 


THE  BO Y  BROKER.  1 75 

"  But  I've  heard  of  fellers  that  went  down  there  without  no 
money,  and  they  made  loads  of  it." 

"  Very  true,"  said  Herbert ;  "  but  did  you  ever  hear  of  the 
thousands  that  went  clown  there  and  came  away  without  a 
cent  ?" 

"  No,  I  never  did,"  admitted  Bob,  frankly. 

Tom  smiled  quietly,  for  he  felt  that  Bob  would  have  to 
acknowledge  himself  mistaken,  and  at  last  come  over  to  his 
side. 

"Well,  now,  there  is  the  very  point,"  said  Herbert,  "  and  it 
is  the  one  that  nobody  stops  to  think  about.  A  report  is 
circulated  that  some  one  makes  a  big  haul  in  Wall  Street, 
and,  without  thinking  about  the  thousands  of  people  that 
lose  money  there,  a  thousand  or  two  more  people  try  their 
luck  at  speculating,  thinking,  each  one  of  them,  to  make  a 
great  haul  too.  But  the  result  is  the  same  as  it  was  with  the 
other  thousand  speculators — the  money  is  swallowed  up,  and 
gone  forever." 

"  What  becomes  of  it  all  ?"  asked  Bob,  much  impressed  by 
Herbert's  well  founded  argument. 

"  Well,  the  most  of  it  goes  into  the  pockets  of  the  kings." 

"  Then  I  shouldn't  think  them  kings  would  get  busted, 
as  you  say  they  do,"  said  Bob,  always  keen  at  making  a  point. 

"  They  would  not  if  they  had  to  deal  only  with  the  small 
speculators,  such  as  you  \vould  like  to  be.  If  that  were  the 
case  they  would  win  nearly  every  time.  But  kings  are  the  ones 
who  break  kings." 

"  Oh,  I  see  now,"  said  Bob.  "  There  are  a  lot  of  'em,  and 
they  jest  go  for  each  other.  Is  that  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  they  do  it." 

"Well,  I  guess  you  are  right,  then,  Herbert — you  and  Tom." 


i  76  THE  BOY  BR OKER. 

"  I  feel  sure  I  am.  Mr.  Goldwin  talked  with  me  about  it 
today,  and  told  me  never  to  speculate." 

"  But  he  speculates,"  said  Bob,  "  and  he  is  worth  a  lot  of 
money." 

"Oh,  no,  never." 

"  What's  he  call  himself  a  broker  for,  then  ?" 

"  Why,  a  broker  is  not  necessarily  a  speculator.     A  broker 
is  one  who  buys  and  sells  stocks  or  bonds  for  some  one  else — 
for  a  speculator,  and  he  gets  his  commission  or  pay   for  doing" 
the  business." 

"Well,  I  guess  I  was  way  off,  Herbert.  I  thought  all  of 
them  brokers  was  speculators,  and  I  knew  lots  of  'em  was  solid 
with  money." 

"Yes,  that  is  the  way  of  it,"  replied  Herbert.  "  The  broker 
makes  the  money  and  the  speculator  loses  it,  usually." 

"  Don't  brokers  never  lose  nothin',  Herbert  ?"  asked  Tom. 

"  No,  not  unless  they  trust  some  one  who  fails  to  pay  them." 

"  Well,  I  thought  you  would  get  sick  er  spekerlatin',  Bob, 
and  I'm  glad  you've  done  it  before  you're  broke,"  said  Tom 
Flannery.  "  I  don't  want  no  spekerlatin'  for  me." 

"  No,  but  you'd  like  a  go  at  horse  racin'  all  the  same,  Tom 
Flannery,"  said  Bob. 

"  No,  I  wouldn't  nuther,  Bob,  fer  you  talked  me  out  er 
bettin'  and  into  spekerlatin',  and  now  Herbert  here  has  jest  up 
set  the  spekerlatin'  idea,  so  I'm  out  of  it  all,  Bob." 

"  Good,"  said  Herbert ;  "  I  am  glad  you  have  come  to  so 
wise  a  decision." 

"So  am  I,"  said  Bob,  heartily. 

"  So  am  I,"  echoed  Tom,  with  equal  fervor. 

"But  now,"  said  Bob,  "what  are  we  goin'  to  do  with  our 
money?  It  ain't  earnin'  us  nothin',  you  see." 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  i  7 7 

"I  think  the  best  plan,  Bob,"  said  Herbert,  thoughtfully, 
"would  be  for  you  and  Tom  to  put  your  money  in  the  savings 
bank.  There  it  will  be  safe,  and  will  be  earning  a  little  in 
terest  all  the  time.  Let  it  remain  there  until  we  see  a  chance 
to  invest  it  to  good  advantage,  and  in  the  meantime  add  as 
much  to  it  as  possible." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that  before,"  said  Bob. 

"  Nuther  did  I,"  added  Tom. 

"  Strikes  me  'tain't  a  bad  scheme,"  continued  Bob.  "  What 
clo  you  say,  Tom  ?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  no  great  money  in  it,  anyhow,"  answered 
young  Flannery.  "  But  if  Herbert  says  it's  the  best  thing, 
why  I  s'pose  'tis." 

"It  is  the  best  plan,  I  am  sure,"  said  young  Randolph. 
"  Very  few  speculators  ever  come  out  rich.  The  men  who  gain 
wealth  are  those  who  invest  their  money  carefully,  and  put  it 
where  it  will  be  safe." 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

BOB    HUNTER'S    AMBITION. 

ON  the  following  day,  after  the  paper  trade  of  the  morn 
ing  was  over,  Bob  and  Tom,  acting  upon  young  Ran 
dolph's    advice,  went    to    the    Emigrants'    Industrial    Savings 
Bank,  and  deposited  each  five  dollars.      They  felt  very  proud 
as  they  came  out  into  Chambers  Street  with  their  bank  books. 
"  It's  a  starter  any  way,"  said  Bob. 
"  I've  been  thinking-  over  what   Herbert  said,  and  I  euess 

<_>  ^ 

between  you'n  me,  Tom,  he  is  'bout  right." 

"  That's  what  I  think  too,  Bob,"  replied  young  Flannery, 
for  aside  from  the  matter  of  betting  on  horse  racing  and  specu 
lating,  he  always  agreed  with  Bob. 

"  I  think  we  was  in  big  luck,  Tom,  when  we  run  on  to  Her 
bert  Randolph." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  Bob  ;  but  why  do  you  think  so  ?" 

"  Why  do  I  think  so  !  Well,  ef  that  ain't  a  queer  question, 
Tom  Flannery.  Would  you  a'  had  that  bank  book  now,  with 
your  name,  Thomas  Flannery,  in  plain  writin'writ  across  it,  I'd 
like  to  know,  ef  it  hadn't  been  for  Vermont?" 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.  That's  so,  Bob,  I  wouldn't,  fer  to  be 
honest  with  you,  Bob,  I  think  I'd  put  it  on  racin'." 

"So  you  would,  Tom,  ef  you'd  had  it,  but  you  wouldn't  er 
had  it."  ' 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  Well,  I  never 
thought  of  that, 

o 

Bob,    but    it's    so, 
ain't  it?" 

"  I  should  say 
it  is,  and  I  would 
n't  er  had  my  bank 
book  or  these  new 
clothes  either." 

"And  the  big 
supper,  Bob  ?" 

"That's  so, 
Tom,  and  the  big 
supper  too.  I  tell 
you,  Tom  Flan- 
nery,  'twas  great 
luck  when  w  e 
struck  Vermont." 

"That's  so, 
Bob,  so  it  was. 
But  say,  Bob,  don't 
you  think  'twas 
kinder  lucky  for 
Herbert  when  he 
fell  in  with  you  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  'bout  that,  Tom.      How  do  you  figure  it?" 

"  Why,  I  figures  it   in  this  way,  Bob  ;  ef  it  hadn't  been  fer 
you  he  would  be  down  in  that  old  Gunwagner's  cellar  now." 

"Well,  that's  so,  Tom,  but  he   has  more  than  paid  me  up, 
though." 

"  How  did  he  do  it,  Bob?"  asked  Tom  eagerly. 


BOB  AND  TOM  COMIXG  OUT  OF  THE  BANK. 


i8o  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Ain't  he  helping  me  right  along,  I'd  like  to  know?" 

"  I  hain't  heard  much  about  it,  Bob.  What  has  he  done 
for  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  you  have  heard  about  it,  too,  Tom  Flannery.  Didn't 
I  tell  you  how  he  teaches  me  every  night?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  told  me  about  that,  Bob,  but  that  ain't  much 
-'tain't  like  doin'  the  detective  business,  is  it?" 

"  Well,  no,  of  course  it  hain't,  but  it's  just  as  good,  Tom, 
and  a  good  deal  more  so,  I  think." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  no  such  thing,  Bob." 

"  Well,  ef  I  do,  that's  all  right,  ain't  it  ?  I  tell  you,  Tom, 
'tain't  every  feller  that  can  do  the  teachin'  act." 

"  Nuther  can  every  fellow  do  the  detective  business.  Ef 
you  want  to  know  what  I  think,  Bob  Hunter,  I'll  tell  you." 

"All  right, Tom,  sail  in." 

"  Well,  I  think,  ef  I  was  you,  I'd  jest  let  this  learnin'  busi 
ness  go,  and  I'd  make  myself  a  detective.  No  feller  could  put 
more  style  into  it  than  what  you  could,  Bob." 

"  Tom,  you're  way  off  again.  A  feller  can't  make  no  kind 
of  a  detective,  nor  nothin'  else,  neither,  unless  he  knows  some- 
thin'.  I  guess  I  know,  and  Herbert  says  so  too." 

"Well,  I  hain't  got  no  learnin',"  replied  Tom,  somewhat 
pompously,  as  if  to  prove  by  himself  that  Bob's  statement  was 
untrue. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Bob,  and  stopped  short. 

Tom  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

"Then  you  might's  well  say  right  out  that  I  won't  make 
nothin',  Bob  Hunter,"  said  he,  his  manner  resembling  that  of 
one  not  a  little  indignant. 

"Well,  I  said  what  I  said,  Tom,  and  if  it  fits  you,  why  then 
am  I  to  blame  ?" 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  1 8 1 

Tom  made  no  reply. 

"  It's  no  use  for  you  to  get  mad,  Tom.  Anybody  would 
tell  you  jest  the  same  as  what  I  did.  Now,  the  thing  for  you 
to  do,  Tom,  is  ter  get  some  learnin' — you  can  do  it." 

"  Do  you  think  I  could,  Bob  ?  "  replied  Tom,  coming  round 
to  Bob's  views,  as  he  almost  always  did. 

"Why,  of  course  you  could,  Tom  ;  ain't  I  doin'  it?" 

"  Well,  yes,  I  s'pose  you  are,  Bob,  but  then  you  can  do 
'most  anything." 

"  That  ain't  so,  Tom.  You  can  do  it  jest  as  well  as  what  I 
can,  ef  you  only  try." 

"  I  never  thought  about  that  before,  Bob,"  said  Tom, 
thoughtfully.  "  Who  could  I  get  to  learn  me  ?" 

"  You  mustn't  say  '  learn  you,'  Tom.  Herbert  says  that 
hain't  right." 

"  What  is  it,  then,  Bob?" 

"  He  says  I  must  say  '  teach  me,'  because  I've  got  to  do  the 
learning  myself." 

"  Well,  that's  too  much  for  me,  Bob  ;  I  want  to  start  in  on 
somethin'  easier." 

At  length  this  discussion  ended  by  Tom  falling  in  with 
Bob's  opinion  as  usual,  and  by  his  agreeing  to  commence  at 
once  attending  an  evening  school. 

o  o 


1 82  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

A  VISIT  TO  THE  BANKER'S  HOUSE. 

THE     disturbing   elements   that   had    produced   the   some 
what   dramatic   and   extraordinary    scenes    of    the    last 
week  were  now  apparently  quiet.      But  \vere   they  actually  so  ? 
This  is  the  question  that  Herbert  Randolph  and  Bob   Hunter 
asked  themselves — a  question  that  caused  them  much  anxiety. 
Felix  Mortimer,  to  be  sure,  was  in  the  Tombs  awaiting-  his 
trial.      But  the  granite  wall  and  the  great  iron  doors  were  alike 
powerless  to  imprison  his  mind.      He   was   as    free   as   ever   to 
think  and  to  plot.      What  schemes  of  revenue   mi^ht   not  then 

1  o  <i> 

be  planned  by  this  boy  whose  hatred  for  Herbert  Randolph 
now  undoubtedly  burned  more  fiercely  than  ever  ?  And  Gun- 
wagner,  his  companion  in  crime,  was  free  to  carry  out  any  plan 
that  micrht  be  agreed  upon  between  them.  He  had  inven 

c_>  O  1  O 

bonds  to  appear  when  wanted  by  the  court,  something  that 
Felix  Mortimer  was  unable  to  do.  This  is  why  the  latter  was 
still  locked  up,  while  the  old  fence  was  allowed  his  temporary 
freedom. 

Except  for  the  constant  anxiety  that  Herbert  and  Bob  felt 
over  this  matter,  everything  went  smoothly  with  them.  Papers 
sold  briskly,  work  at  the  bank  was  congenial,  and  they  had 
already  become  much  interested  in  each  other.  The  days  flew 
by  quickly,  and  they  looked  forward  to  the  evenings,  which 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  183 

they  spent  together  as  a  time  for  enjoyment  and  improvement. 
As  often  as  Tom  Flannery  could  leave  his  evening  school  he 
joined  them,  and  he  was  always  welcome.  No  one  could  help 
liking  him,  he  was  so  simple  and  honest.  How  keenly  he 
enjoyed  an  evening  with  Herbert  and  Bob  in  their  room,  or 
strolling  about  the  great  city,  as  they  not  infrequently  did  ! 
Their  slender  means  would  not  warrant  them  in  attending  the 
theater  often.  Occasionally,  however,  they  managed  to  get 
inexpensive  admission  tickets  to  a  really  good  play.  Bob 
Hunter  usually  procured  them  as  a  reward  for  some  service  he 
had  given  during  the  day,  when  his  paper  trade  did  not  de 
mand  his  attention.  Many  very  good  free  lectures,  too,  were 
open  to  them,  and  they  seldom  failed  to  improve  this  oppor 
tunity.  The  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  building, 
with  its  fine  library  and  gymnasium,  proved  a  very  attractive 
resort  to  these  three  boys,  whose  happiness,  though  they  lived 
in  the  most  humble  way,  was  doubtless  equaled  by  few  boys  in 
the  great  metropolis,  however  luxurious  their  home  and  sur 
roundings. 

One  evening  in  particular  young  Randolph  found  especially 
enjoyable.  It  came  about  in  this  way.  Mr.  Goldwin  had  a 
slight  attack  of  rheumatism  that  caused  him  to  remain  at  home. 
He  sent  a  note  to  his  office  saying  he  should  not  be  at  the 
bank  on  that  day,  and  requesting  Herbert  to  come  to  his  house 
late  in  the  afternoon,  and  to  bring  with  him  a  report  of  the 
day's  business,  and  whatever  mail  it  would  be  desirable  for  the 
banker  to  see. 

The  young  Vermonter  read  the  note  eagerly,  and  then 
immediately  did  the  same  thing  over  again.  A  peculiar 
pleasure  shone  in  his  eyes  as  he  looked  cloubtingly  at  the  little 
piece  of  paper.  And  now  he  saw  a  very  attractive  picture — a 


1 84  THE  BOY  BR OKER. 

rich  family  carriage  into  which  a  charmingly  pretty  girl  was 
being  helped  by  a  blushing  boy.  He  wondered  why  she  had 
never  been  at  the  bank  since  that  time,  and  speculated  dreamily 
upon  his  chance  of  seeing  her  at  her  father's  house. 

Thus  the  day  wore  away,  and  at  the  close  of  business 
hours  young  Randolph  hurried  from  the  bank,  taking  with  him 
what  he  had  been  requested  to  bring. 

At  City  Hall  Park  he  stopped  and  informed  Bob  Hunter 
of  his  mission,  and  then  went  quickly  to  his  room  to  put  him 
self  into  the  most  presentable  appearance  possible  with  the 
somewhat  scanty  resources  of  his  wardrobe. 

His  heart  beat  fast  with  expectations  and  fears  as  he  as 
cended  the  brown  stone  steps  of  Mr.  Goldwin's  house. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Randolph,"  said  the  banker,  greeting 
Herbert  very  cordially.  "  I  hope  you  have  a  good  report  of 
today's  transactions  for  me." 

"  Yes,  I  think  this  statement  of  the  transactions  will  please 
you,"  replied  young  Randolph  politely. 

"  Excellent,"  exclaimed  the  banker  with  a  smile  of  satisfac 
tion,  as  he  read  the  report.  "  You  have  done  a  splendid  day's 
work.  The  market  must  have  been  unusually  active.  Why, 
here  is  a  transaction  of  twenty  thousand  shares  by  one  house 
alone— great  customers,  Breakwell  &  Co.,  great  customers, 
bold  men — not  afraid  of  anything." 

"  They  certainly  seem  to  be  very  enterprising,"  remarked 
Herbert,  feeling  the  necessity  of  saying  something,  and  that 
that  something  should  concur  with  his  employer's  views. 

"  Most  assuredly  they  are,"  answered  the  banker,  warming 
to  the  subject.  "  Why,  if  we  had  more  houses  like  Breakwell 
&  Co.,  Wall  Street  would  see  no  dull  days — no,  sir,  none  at 
all.  On  the  contrary,  it  would  just  hum  with  activity." 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


185 


"I    suppose   they   are   perfectly  good,    Mr.    Goldwin,"    re 
marked  Herbert,  not  knowing  what  better  reply  to  make. 

"Good?     Why,   they  are    rated  Ai,  and  are  reported  to 
be    very    rich,"    replied     the 
banker. 

"  Did  they  make  their 
money  by  speculating  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  understand  so." 

"Are  they  sure  of  keep 
ing  it  if  they  continue  to 
speculate  ?" 

"  Well,  now,  you  are  ask 
ing  me  a  difficult  question. 
Nothing,  you  know,  is  certain 
in  Wall  Street." 

Before  Herbert  had  time 
to  reply,  dinner  was  an 
nounced.  The  question 
touching  the  reliability  of 
Breakwell  &  Co.  was  imme 
diately  dropped,  and  in  its 
place  arose  the  unexpected 
problem  whether  or  not  he 
should  accept  the  banker's 
invitation  to  dine  with  him 
and  his  family.  He  would 
have  quite  as  soon  thought 
of  receiving  an  invitation  to 
dinner  from  the  mayor  himself.  It  was  quite  natural,  therefore, 
that  he  should  offer  some  ridiculous  reason  why  he  should  be 
excused,  when,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  would  have  much  rather 


HERBERT'S  FIRST  VISIT  TO  THE 
BANKER'S  HOUSE. 


i86  TJJE  BOY  BROKER. 

served  another  term  of  imprisonment  at  old  Gunwagner's  than 
lose  this  opportunity. 

"Come  right  along,"  commanded  Mr.  Goldwin,  himself 
leading  the  way. 

Herbert  followed  the  banker  into  the  parlor,  where  he  was 
introduced  to  his  employer's  wife  and  daughter. 

He  found  himself  blushing  even  more  profusely  than  \vhen 
he  had  handed  Ray  Goldwin  into  her  carriage,  at  the  close  of 
his  first  clay's  service  for  her  father.  This  heightened  color, 
too,  seemed  to  be  reflected  upon  her  cheeks,  and  her  manner 
indicated  a  slight  but  not  unnatural  embarrassment. 

Herbert  had  thought  that  the  dinner  given  by  Bob  Hunter 
was  about  as  good  as  could  well  be  served,  but  this  one  proved 
in  every  respect  much  the  better  ;  and  notwithstanding  his  ner 
vousness  and  lack  of  ease,  under  circumstances  so  unfamiliar, 
he  enjoyed  the  meal  greatly. 

While  Herbert  Randolph  could  laugh  at  the  drollery  and 
peculiar  street  language  of  Bob  Hunter  and  Tom  Flannery, 
he  nevertheless  found  a  higher  degree  of  pleasure  in  the  con 
versation  of  this  intelligent  and  refined  family. 

"  Papa  told  us  about  your  imprisonment,  Mr.  Randolph," 
said  Ray,  looking  wonderfully  pretty,  as  Herbert  thought.  "  It 
must  have  been  dreadful." 

"  It  was  an  unpleasant  experience,"  replied  young  Randolph, 
lightly  ;  "  but  I  came  out  all  right." 

"  Ah,  that  reminds  me,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  "that  one  of  the 
letters  you  brought  me  was  from  my  attorney.  In  it  he  ex 
pressed  the  opinion  that  you  can  recover  damages  from  the  old 
fence  for  false  imprisonment.  I  would  therefore  advise  you  to 
place  the  matter  in  his  hands  at  once,  and  have  him  push  it." 

"You  mean  put  it  into  the  hands  of  your  lawyer?" 


"  YOU    EMBARRASS    MK,"    SAID    HERBERT,    BLUSHING. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  189 

"  Yes." 

"  I  appreciate  very  highly  your  interest  in  my  behalf,  Mr. 
Gold  win,  and  I  will  do  as  you  say,"  replied  Herbert. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  splendid  if  you  could  get  damages  from 
that  dreadful  old  man  ?"  said  Ray,  with  enthusiasm. 

Thus  the  conversation  ran  on,  and  before  the  dinner  had 
been  finished,  Herbert  felt  himself  quite  well  acquainted  with 
both  Mrs.  Goldwin  and  Ray.  He  had  tried  to  convince  him 
self  that  he  did  not  care  for  girls,  and  he  thought  he  had  suc 
ceeded  well  in  doing  so.  But  for  some  inexplicable  reason,  his 
imaginary  objections  to  the  sex  in  general  did  not  stand  long 
against  Ray  Goldwin  in  particular. 

Her  bright  blue  eyes,  brimful  of  spirit  and  laughter,  seemed 
to  detect  his  aversion,  and  she  aimed,  he  thought,  to  show  him 
that  he  had  deceived  himself. 

After  the  meal  had  been  finished  all  repaired  to  the  library, 
where,  after  a  half  hour  of  social  converse,  Herbert  wrote 
several  letters  for  Mr.  Goldwin  at  his  dictation.  Ray  sat  oppo 
site  him  with  the  purpose  of  reading,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact 
she  did  not  progress  very  fast  with  the  story. 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  write  in  my  autograph  album, 
Mr.  Randolph?"  said  she,  somewhat  timidly,  when  he  had  fin 
ished  her  father's  letters. 

"Yes,  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  he  answered. 

"  I  shall  be  proud  of  such  pretty  writing,"  returned  Ray, 
handing  him  the  book. 

"You  embarrass  me,"  said  he,  blushing. 

"  I    don't   see   why,"   laughed    Ray,    enjoying    young   Ran- 

--    7  O  *    '  J        J  <3         J  O> 

dolph's  modesty. 

"  Well,  I  am  not  accustomed  to  compliments,  especially 
from — er " 


1 90  THE  BO  Y  BR OKER. 

"  From  young  girls,"  suggested  Mrs.  Goldwin,  smiling. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Herbert ;  "  I  was  hesitating  whether 
to  say  '  girls  '  or  '  young  ladies.' ' 

"  Oh,  say  girls,  by  all  means,"  replied  Mrs.  Goldwin.  "  We 
don't  want  Ray  to  become  a  young  lady  too  soon." 

"  I  don't  blame  you,"  responded  our  hero,  half  seriously. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Randolph,"  said  Ray,  shaking  her  dainty  finger 
at  him,  "  I  believe  I  would  not  have  asked  you  to  write  in  my 
album  if  I  had  supposed  you  would  say  that." 

"  Well,  it  is  not  too  late  yet,  for  you  see  I  have  not  touched 
the  book  with  the  pen,"  laughed  Herbert. 

"  Oh,  but  I  would  not  want  to  disappoint  you.  You  know 
you  said  it  would  give  you  pleasure  to  do  so." 

"  So  it  would,  but  I  would  rather  sacrifice  this  pleasure 
than  feel  that  you  would  be  sorry  you  had  given  me  the  invita 
tion." 

Without  further  parley  Herbert  wrote  in  the  album — wrote 
so  prettily  that  he  was  roundly  complimented  by  all. 

Mrs.  Goldwin  and  Rav  were  now  summoned  into  the  draw- 

•/ 

ing  room  to  receive  a  caller,  and  presently  young  Randolph 
took  his  leave,  and  started  for  his  room  with  a  very  light  and 
happy  heart. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  191 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

TOM    PLANNER Y'S    SICKNESS. 

BOB  HUNTER  was  too  much  surprised  by  the  fact  that 
Herbert  was  going  to  Mr.  Golclwin's  house  to  tell  him  of 
his  own  anxiety  about  Tom  Flannery.  The  latter  had  not,  as 
Bob  learned,  been  seen  for  two  days  at  his  accustomed  place. 
That  he  should  be  away  one  day  was  not  particularly  strange, 
for  he  not  infrequently  got  odd  jobs  to  do  that  took  him  to  an 
other  part  of  the  city,  or  possibly  to  some  of  the  near  by 
suburbs.  Two  days'  absence,  however,  was  so  unusual  for  him 
that  Bob  Hunter  became  anxious,  fearing  that  possibly  the 
vengeance  of  old  Gunwagner  and  his  companion  in  crime  had 
fallen  upon  poor,  unsuspecting  Tom.  This  thought  having 
suggested  itself  to  him,  his  previous  anxiety  speedily  turned  to 
a  feeling  of  alarm. 

He  therefore  left  his  place  of  business  as  early  as  possible, 
and  after  a  hurried  supper  went  quickly  to  Tom  Flannery's 
home,  which  was  in  a  large  office  building  on  Broadway,  very 
near  Bowling  Green.  The  latter's  mother  was  janitress  of  the 
building.  Her  duties  were  to  keep  it  clean,  and  to  look  after 
the  interests  of  the  owner.  For  these  services  she  received  a 
trifling  money  reward,  and  was  allowed  to  occupy  two  small 
rooms  at  the  top  of  the  building.  Here  Mrs.  Flannery  and 
Tom  made  their  home,  which,  though  humble,  was  very  neat. 


i92  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Bob  knocked  softly  at  the  door,  out  of  breath  from  climb 
ing  so  many  flights  of  stairs,  and  with  sore  misgivings  for  the 
safety  of  his  young  companion.  The  door  was  opened  pres 
ently  by  a  woman  of  middle  age,  who,  as  Bob  saw  at  a  glance 
from  her  extraordinary  resemblance  to  Tom,  was  the  newsboy's 
mother.  He  had  never  seen  her  before,  but  the  honest,  trust 
ful  look  so  characteristic  of  his  young  friend  shone  promi 
nently  in  Mrs.  Flannery's  face. 

"  They  have  got  him,  poor  Tom,"  said  Bob  to  himself  with 
beating  heart,  as  he  saw  Mrs.  Flannery's  grief. 

"Are  you  not  Master  Bob  Hunter?"  said  the  woman, 
speaking  first — after  an  awkward  pause  ;  for  the  visitor,  who 
had  been  so  bold  a  detective,  was  now  so  distressed  that  he 
knew  not  what  to  say. 

"  Yes,  I  am  Bob  Hunter,"  was  the  soft  reply. 

"And  you  are  come  to  see  my  boy — my  poor  Tom?"  said 
the  woman,  pressing  Bob's  hand  warmly,  and  struggling  vainly 
to  keep  back  the  tears. 

"Is  he  here?"  asked  Bob,  dumfouncled  by  the  contradict 
ory  state  of  things  ;  for  it  was  apparent  from  the  woman's 
question  that  Tom  was  at  home,  and,  he  being  at  home,  why 
such  grief  ? 

"  I'm  so  glad  you  came  to  see  him,  for  he  thought  so  much 
of  you,  Master  Bob,"  said  Mrs.  Flannery,  now  giving  way 
entirely  to  her  feelings. 

"  I  would  have  come  before  if   I  had  known— 

"  I  know  you  would,  I  know  you  would,"  interrupted  the 
woman  between  sobs,  "and  he  asked  so  many  times  for  you, 
and  now  to  think  that  you  are  here  and  he  won't  know  you. 
Oh,  my  poor  Tom  ! " 

"  I  don't   blame   you  for  being  proud,  Bob.      I  wish    I    had 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  193 

such  a  case  too,  but  then  I  couldn't  handle  it  not  the  way  you 
could,  Bob.  None  of  the  fellers  could,  not  one  of  'em,  Bob, 
for  you  do  everything  in  such  a  grand  way,  you  know." 

These  words,  so  familiar  yet  so  ominously  strange,  fell  upon 
Bob  Hunter  like  a  messenger  of  death. 

"Oh,   what   is   it,    Mrs.    Flannery  ?  What  has  happened  to 
Tom?"  cried  he,  pale  with  fright. 

"  It's  his  head,  Master  Bob — gone  since  morning — rambling 
on  just  like  this — detectives,  and  I  don't  know  what  all." 

"  Have  you  had  a  doctor  to  see  him  ?"  asked  Bob,  his  mind 
turning  quickly  to  practical  measures. 

"  Yes,  and  he  says  it's  pneumonia,  and  a  very  bad  case,"  an 
swered  the  mother,  with  almost  a  hopeless  expression. 

Bob  learned  that  Tom  came  home  two  days  before  thoroughly 
wet  from  a  cold  northeast  rain  ;  that  he  had  a  chill  soon  after 
going  to  bed  ;  that  he  grew  rapidly  worse  throughout  the  night, 
and  that  in  the  morning  he  had  a  high  fever.  Mrs.  Flannery 
called  in  a  doctor,  who,  after  a  careful  examination,  pronounced 
the  case  pneumonia.  He  left  medicine  which  seemed  to  afford 
temporary  relief.  In  the  night,  however,  Tom  grew  worse,  and 
durinor  the  following  forenoon  became  delirious. 

o  o 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Tom  ?"  said  Bob  feelingly,  as  he  stood 
by  the  bedside,  and  held  the  sufferer's  hand  in  his  own. 

"  All  the  evening  papers — Sun,  Mail  and  Express,  Telegram 
—big  accident — tremendous  loss  of  life  !  Which  will  you  have, 
sir?" 

And  this  was  Tom's  wild  reply,  poor  boy.  Now  that  his 
companion,  whom  he  wanted  to  see  so  much,  and  for  whom  he 
had  such  admiration,  had  at  last  come  to  him,  the  sick  boy  did 
not  know  him  ;  but  supposing  he  had  a  customer  for  his  papers, 
he  rattled  on  in  true  newsboy  fashion.  Bob  tried  again  and 


i94 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


again  to  rouse  his  mind  by  referring  to  Herbert  Randolph,  and 
to  scenes  familiar  and  interesting,  but  his  efforts  were  unsuc 
cessful.  At  length  his  stout  young  heart  gave  way,  and  with 
an  expression  of  the  keenest  grief  he  dropped  into  a  chair  be 
side  the  bed,  burying  his  face  in  the  pure  white  spread  that 

covered  his 
young  compan 
ion,  and  wept 
tears  of  sincere 
sorrow. 

Presently  he 
withdrew  from 
the  sick  room, 
and  after  a  brief 
discussion  with 
Mrs.  Flannery 
hurried  away  to 
the  doctor  whom 
she  had  p  r  e  - 
viously  called 
in  to  see  Tom. 
The  physician 
promised  to  visit 
the  sick  boy 
again  within  an 
hour.  Having  this  assurance  from  the  doctor,  Bob  then  turned 
his  steps  towards  his  own  room  to  acquaint  Herbert  Randolph 
with  Tom's  illness.  But  to  Bob's  surprise  he  found  on  arriving 
there  that  the  young  Vermonter  had  not  yet  reached  home. 

"  'Twas  nine  o'clock  when  I  passed  the  Tribune  building," 
said  Bob  to  himself  rather  anxiously,  "  and  he  hain't  come  yet. 


TOM    FLANNERY    IN    DELIRIUM. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  195 

I  hope  nothing's  gone  bad  with  him,  though,  for  we've  got 
trouble  enough  on  our  hands  already,  with  Tom  sick,  and  goin' 
to  die,  I'm  afraid.  I  wish  I  could  do  something  for  him  ;  he 
would  do  anvthincr  in  the  world  for  me,  Tom  would." 

^  <_> 

But  Bob's  fears  regarding  Herbert  proved  groundless,  for  in 
a  little  time  the  latter  joined  him  with  a  light  heart,  made  happy 
by  the  very  kind  reception  given  him  at  Mr.  Goldwin's. 

On  his  way  home  his  mind  was  filled  with  the  vision  of  a 
sweet  young  face,  which  to  him  was  an  inspiration.  And  as  he 
hurried  along  the  avenue,  thinking  faster  and  faster,  what 
charming  pictures  his  imagination  brought  before  him — pictures 
that  for  him  possessed  a  strange  and  peculiar  attraction.  But 
these  beautiful  creations  of  his  mind  were  quickly  lost  to  him 
when  he  saw  the  troubled  look  on  young  Bob  Hunter's  face. 

"  Why,  Bob,"  said  he,  "what  makes  you  look  so  wretched  ? 
What  has  happened  ?" 

The  latter  quickly  related  the  story  of  Tom's  sickness,  and 
stated  his  own  fears. 

"  I  cannot  realize  it,  Bob,"  said  Herbert,  deeply  touched. 
"  Poor  Tom  !  let  us  go  at  once  and  do  whatever  we  can  for 
him." 

"  That's  right,  Herbert  ;  that's  what  I  think  we  ought  to 
do,  and  I  shouldn't  come  home  at  all  only  I  knew  you  would 
not  know  what  had  become  of  me,"  replied  Bob,  as  they  put  on 
their  overcoats  and  started  for  Mrs.  Flannery's  humble  home. 


196  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A    CRASH    IN    WALL    STREET. 

AT  the  end  of  two  \veeks  Tom  was  again  up  and  dressed. 
His  struggle  with  the  pneumonia  had  been  a  frightful 
one.  It  was  turned  in  his  favor  largely  by  the  aid  of  the  best 
medical  skill,  and  the  untiring  care  given  him  by  his  mother 
and  his  two  faithful  friends,  Herbert  and  Bob.  The  latter  took 
turns  in  watching  with  him  at  night,  while  Mrs.  Flannery  slept, 
that  she  might  renew  her  strength  for  the  day  watch. 

But  the  disease,  as  is  not  infrequently  the  case,  left  Tom 
with  a  hard,  dry  cough,  which  threatened  serious  results.  His 
lungs  were  weak,  and  his  body  was  much  emaciated.  He  was 
not  the  Tom  Flannery  of  old,  the  Tom  so  full  of  boyish  spirits 
and  desire  to  push  his  paper  trade.  This  change  in  their  young 
companion  caused  Herbert  and  Bob  keen  anxiety.  They  had 
watched  beside  his  bed  through  delirium  and  helplessness, 
when  there  seemed  no  hope  of  his  recovery.  How  glad  their 
young  hearts  were  when  he  began  to  rally,  and  they  could  see 
him  in  imagination  back  with  them  again  in  their  old  pleasures 
and  pastimes  !  His  failure,  therefore,  to  throw  off  the  racking 
cough  and  regain  his  strength  was  a  sore  disappointment  to 
them,  but  this  was  not  their  only  source  of  apprehension. 

How  full  these  two  weeks  had  been  of  bitter  trouble — trouble 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  197 

that  drew  deeply  upon  their  sympathy  ;  that  destroyed  splendid 
prospects  and  forced  one  of  them  from  a  position  of  indepen 
dence  to  one  little  better  than  beggary. 

Disturbing  elements  had  been  gathering  for  days  in  Wall 
Street,  which  to  a  few  wise  old  heads  seemed  ominous.  They 
predicted  danger,  but  their  warnings  were  laughed  at  by  the 
less  cautious  speculators,  who  operated  with  a  reckless  daring. 
At  length,  however,  the  storm  struck  almost  without  a  moment's 
notice.  Wild  reports  filled  the  air,  and  men,  strong,  bold  men, 
crushed  by  the  tremendous  force  of  the  panic,  fell  prostrate  here 
and  there,  and  everywhere  Terror  spread  to  all,  and  painted 
its  sickly  hue  upon  their  faces.  When  the  storm  had  subsided 
the  street  was  full  of  wrecks.  Amonor  them  was  the  daring  firm 

o  o 

of  Breakwell  &  Co.,  who  had  failed  for  a  million  and  a  quarter 
of  dollars. 

Young  Randolph  was  stunned  at  the  exhibition  he  witnessed 
on  that  fatal  day.  House  after  house  with  whom  his  firm  had 
clone  business,  and  who  were  supposed  to  be  almost  beyond  the 
possibility  of  failure,  had  closed  their  doors.  Breakwell  &  Co. 
were  among  the  last  to  go  under.  They  had  been  kept  up  by 
the  splendid  loyalty  of  Richard  Goldwin,  who  put  his  bank 
account  at  their  command,  relying  upon  their  assurance  that 
they  were  all  right,  and  would  come  out  of  the  storm  stronger 
than  ever,  if  they  could  only  receive  temporary  help.  Mr. 
Goldwin,  anxious  to  save  them,  stood  heroically  by  them,  and 
went  down  with  them — a  victim  of  noble  generosity,  of  mis 
placed  confidence.  Yes,  he  had  failed — Richard  Goldwin,  the 
banker  and  broker,  yesterday  a  millionaire,  today  perhaps  a 
pauper. 

Herbert  Randolph  could  not  at  first  realize  the  awful  fact,  but 
the  pain  he  saw  in  Mr.  Goldwin's  face  appealed  so  strongly  to 


198  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

his  sympathy  that  the  tears  forced  themselves  from  his  eyes, 
try  however  bravely  he  would  to  restrain  them.  The  doors  were 
closed,  and  all  business  with  the  house  of  Richard  Goldwin  was 
at  an  end. 

Mr.  Goldwin  bore  the  misfortune  like  a  hero.  His  face  was 
white  and  firm  as  marble.  Certain  lines,  however,  told  his  dis 
tress,  but  never  a  word  of  complaint  at  the  miserable  treachery 
of  Breakwell  &  Co.  escaped  his  lips. 

Herbert  could  not  help  thinking  how  severe  the  shock 
would  be  to  Mrs.  Goldwin  and  Ray,  who  could  not  bridle  their 
emotions  with  an  iron  will  like  that  of  the  ruined  banker.  The 
latter  was  accustomed,  in  his  long  career  in  Wall  Street,  to  seeing 
others  meet  the  disaster  that  had  now  overtaken  him  ;  but  his 
wife  and  daughter — ah,  how  little  they  were  prepared  for  such 
a  shock. 

The  panic  that  ruined  so  many  men  added  quite  largely  to 
the  fortunes  of  young  Bob  Hunter.  He  had  never  before  had 
such  a  trade.  Papers  sold  beyond  all  imagination,  and  at  double 
their  usual  price.  The  result  was  a  profit  of  seven  dollars  and 
forty  seven  cents  for  his  day's  work.  He  felt  richer  than  ever  be 
fore  in  his  life,  and  so  happy  that  he  could  hardly  wait  till  the  usual 
time  for  Herbert  to  join  him,  he  wanted  so  much  to  make  known 
his  grand  success.  But  when  young  Randolph  came  to  him 
with  the  sad  story  of  that  day  in  Wall  Street,  his  happiness  gave 
place  to  a  feeling  of  unusual  sadness,  and  the  sadness  deepened 
on  learning  that  his  friend  was  now  out  of  a  position. 

"  But  you  can  get  another  place,  Herbert,"  said  he,  reassur 
ingly  ;  "  perhaps  a  better  one  than  you  have  lost." 

"  I  hope  so,"  was  all  the  reply  the  young  bank  clerk  made, 
but  there  was  a  world  of  expression  in  the  way  he  said  it.  His 
face,  too,  looked  the  disappointment  and  sorrow  he  felt,  and 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  199 

Bob  rightly  divined  that  the  sorrow  was  more  for  Air.  Goldwin 

o  s 

and  his  family  than  for  himself. 

It  is  safe  to  presume  that  Herbert  thought  long  and  regret 
fully  of  the  probability  of  Mr.  Goldwin  being  reduced  to  a  state 
of  poverty — of  his  being  turned  out  of  his  luxurious  home — of 
Ray,  his  daughter,  being  obliged  to  work  for  her  living — of  her 
younor  sweet  life  beingf  embittered  by  want  and  miserable  sur- 

J  O  O  * 

roundings,  so  out  of  keeping  with  her  beauty  and  genial,  sunny 
nature.  And  if  he  did  think  in  this  wise,  what  resolutions 
he  formed  for  relieving  her  of  such  a  life,  and  of  restoring  her 
to  her  proper  place  we  can  only  imagine,  for  on  this  matter  he 
said  never  a  word,  not  even  to  Bob  Hunter. 

On  the  following  morning,  Bob  Hunter  handed  Herbert  a 
small  roll  of  bills. 

"  What  is  this  for  ?"  said  the  latter. 

"  It's  for  you,"  replied  Bob.  "  There's  only  eight  dollars  in 
it,  but  you'll  perhaps  need  it,  and  then  you'll  feel  better  with  it 
in  your  pocket  while  looking  for  work." 

"  But  I  cannot  accept  your  money,  Bob,"  protested  Herbert, 
with  feelings  of  deep  gratitude. 

"  Yes,  you  must,  for  you  are  out  in  the  cold,  and  my  business 
is  good  ;  and  then,  you  know,  I  made  'most  all  of  it  yesterday 
out  of  the  failures  in  Wall  Street — out  of  your  firm's  failure  as 
much  as  any,  probably,  and  that  meant  your  failure  to  keep 
your  place ;  so  in  a  way  I  kinder  made  it  out  of  you,  and  now  I 
want  you  to  have  it  airain." 

*  O 

Herbert's  eyes  were  now  moist. 

"  Bob,  you  are  very  good  and  generous,"  said  he,  rather 
huskily;  "  but  you  are  not  logical.  I  have  no  claim  on  your 
money,  neither  has  any  one.  You  made  it  in  legitimate  trade, 
and  should  not  feel  that  it  does  not  belong  to  you." 

o>  J 


2OO 


THE  23  OY  BROKER. 


"Well,  I  know 

I  did  ;  but  1  feel 
in  a  kind  of  way 
that  it  was  made 
off  of  the  misfor 
tunes  of  others, 
you  see." 

"  But  the  mis 
fortunes  \v  e  r  e 
not  caused  by 
you.  They  had. 
occurred,  and 
people  wanted  to 
know  about  them, 
and  were  willing 
and  glad  to  pay 
for  their  informa- 

YOUNG  RANDOLPH  AGAIN   IN  THE  RANKS  OF  THE  UNEMPLOYED.  tlott  TlllS    ^TaVC 

you  an   opportunity  to  make  some  money,  and  you   made   it." 
"  Well,  of  course  you  will  beat  me  at  arguing,  Herbert,  for 

you  always  do  ;  but  all   the   same   I   wish   you   would   take   the 

money,  for  I  think  you  will  need  it." 

"  If  I  do  need  any  money,  when  mine  is    gone,  I   will   then 

borrow  this  of  you,  but  until  then  you  must  keep  it." 

After    this    discussion,    and    after  a   very  frugal   breakfast, 

Herbert  once  more  joined  the  ranks  of  the  vast  army  who  go 

from  place  to  place,  hungry  and  thinly  clothed    many  times,  in 

search  of   employment — anything  to  keep  the  wolf   from  the 

door. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  201 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

DARK   DAYS. 

IT  was  now  midwinter.     The  streets  were   filled   with  snow 
and  ice,  and  the  cold,  frost  laden  air  was  chilling  alike  to 
the  body  and  spirits  of  one  in  the  unfortunate  position  in  which 
young  Randolph  suddenly  found  himself. 

If  one  has  never  been  out  of  a  position  in  a  great  city  at 
this  season  of  the  year,  he  can  have  but  little  conception  of  the 
almost  utterly  hopeless  prospects  before  him.  After  the  holi 
day  trade  is  over,  a  vast  number  of  clerks  are  discharged  from 
our  stores,  and  thousands  in  the  manufacturing  line  are  thrown 

o 

out  of  employment.  These  are  added  to  the  very  large  number 
that  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  are  hunting  for  work.  Thousands, 
too,  from  the  country,  thinking  to  escape  the  dreary  frost  bound 
months  of  rural  life,  flock  to  the  city  and  join  the  enormous 
army  of  the  unemployed.  All  want  work,  and  there  is  little 
or  no  work  to  be  had.  It  is  the  season  of  the  year  when 
few  changes  are  made  by  employers  other  than  to  dis 
pense  with  the  services  of  those  not  actually  needed.  To 
be  sure,  a  few  employees  die,  and  leave  vacancies  to  be  filled. 
Others  prove  unfaithful,  and  are  discharged.  A  new  business, 
too,  is  started  here  and  there,  but  all  the  available  positions 
combined  are  as  nothing  when  compared  to  the  tremendous 
demand  for  them  by  the  thousands  of  applicants. 

When   Herbert   Randolph  came  to   New   York  in  the  fall, 


202  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

he  was  fortunate  in  arriving  at  the  time  when  employers  usually 
carry  a  larger  force  of  help  than  at  any  other  season  of  the 
year.  There  was  consequently  less  demand  for  positions,  and 
a  greater  demand  for  help.  Thus  he  had  a  possible  chance  of 
securing  employment,  and  he  happened  to  be  fortunate  enough 
to  do  so.  I  say  he  had  a  possible  chance,  for  surely  he  had  no 
more  than  that  even  at  the  most  favorable  season  of  the  year. 
He  was  extremely  fortunate,  coming  from  the  country  as  he 

J  o  - 

did,  to  find  employment  at  all. 

In  view  of  these  facts  it  will  not  be  surprising  that  young 
Randolph,  brave  boy  as  he  was,  looked  upon  the  dreary  pros 
pect  before  him  with  a  heavy  heart. 

Bob  Hunter  realized  fully  the  gravity  of  his  friend's  situa 
tion,  and  this  is  why  he  urged  the  money  upon  him,  wishing 
to  keep  up  his  courage,  and  delicately  refraining  from  touching 
upon  the  dark  outlook  ahead. 

I  wish  I  had  the  space  to  picture  carefully  all  the  rebuffs,  the 
cold  treatment,  and  the  discouragement  that  met  our  young 
hero  on  his  daily  wanderings,  seeking  for  some  honest  labor — 
anything  that  would  furnish  him  with  the  means  to  buy  bread. 
But  as  I  should  not  feel  justified  in  extending  this  story  to  such 
a  length,  I  must  content  myself  with  a  few  glimpses  that  will 
show  the  heroic  struggle  he  made  to  sustain  himself  during 
these  dark,  chilly,  and  cheerless  days  of  winter. 

"  It's  pretty  tough,  ain't  it,  Herbert  ?"  said  Bob,  one  night 
when  they  were  alone  together  in  their  room.  He  sought  to 
lift  the  burden  from  his  friend's  mind  by  drawing  him  into  con 
versation. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Herbert,  mechanically. 

This  reply,  so  short,  and  given  with  so  little  expression,  gave 
Bob  a  feelin  of  uneasiness. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


2Q- 


"  I  hope  you  ain't  getting  discouraged,"  he  ventured  next. 
1  No,  nothing  will  discourage   me  now,"  replied  young  Ran 
dolph  doggedly. 

"  But  you  hain't  got  no  encouragement  yet?" 

"  No,  none  whatever,"  was  the  gloomy  answer. 

"  And  you've 
been  trying  for 
three  weeks  t  o 
strike  something?" 

"  Yes  ;  it's  near 
er  four  weeks,  and 

my  shoes  are  worn  ,„  *;*, 

out  with  walking." 

"  But  you  know 
I  have  some 
money  for  you, 
and  you  better  jf 
take  it  and  buy 
you  a  new  pair." 

"  No,     Bob,     I 

will     never    take       1      Jr 

,      *« 

that  except  as  a 
last  resort.  While 
I  have  my  health 
I  shall  not  allow 
myself  to  accept 
charity.  I  am  not 
afraid  to  do  any 
sort  of  work,  and 
sooner  or  later  I  L___ . 

am  Confident    that  HERBERT  RANDOLPH  SHOVELING  SNOW. 


204  THE  BOY  BR OKER. 

I  shall  find  employment.  This  morning  I  earned  seventy  five 
cents  shoveling  snow  from  the  stoops  of  houses.  This  sort  of 
employment,  however,  is  very  uncertain,  as  so  little  snow  falls 
here  ;  but  there  are  other  odd  jobs  to  be  done,  and  I  shall  try 
and  get  my  share  of  them." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  was  doing  that  kind  of  work,  Herbert," 
said  Bob,  with  a  deep  drawn  sigh.  "  It  ain't  right  for  a  boy 
with  your  learn  in'  to  come  down  to  that." 

"  It's  right  for  me  to  do  anything  temporarily  to  earn  an 
honest  penny.  One  who  is  above  work  cannot  hope  to  succeed. 
I  am  here,  and  I  am  going  to  stay,  and  the  best  I  can  do  is  to 
do  always  the  best  I  can,  and  the  best  I  can  do  just  at  present 
is  to  be  a  porter,  an  errand  boy,  a  boy  of  all  work — ready  for 
anything,  and  willing  to  do  anything,  always  keeping  my  eyes 
open  for  a  chance  to  go  a  step  higher. 

"  The  trouble  with  me  now,  Bob,  is  that  I  started  in  too 
elegantly  at  first.  I  commenced  in  a  broker's  office,  when  I 
should  have  started  at  the  bottom,  in  order  to  know  anything 
about  the  first  round  of  the  ladder.  I'm  at  the  bottom  now, 
and  it  looks  as  if  I  would  have  to  remain  there  long"  enough  to 

o  o 

learn  a  good  deal  about  that  position." 

"  I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way,  Herbert,  for  I  thought  you  was 
getting  discouraged,"  replied  Bob,  his  face  brightening  up. 

"  I  did  feel  utterly  discouraged  for  the  first  two  or  three 
weeks  ;  but  you  know,  Bob,  one  can  get  used  to  anything,  and  I 
have  become  sufficiently  accustomed  to  this  miserable  kind  of 
work,  and  to  the  beggarly  pennies  I  earn  from  time  to  time,  so  that 
it  is  less  cutting  to  me  than  at  first.  I  try  to  content  myself 
with  the  belief  that  it  will  be  better  by  and  by,  thouo-h  I  cret 

J  J  o  o 

heart  sick  sometimes.  It  seems  almost  useless  to  try  farther  for 
work  in  any  well  established  business." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  205 

The  foregoing  will  give  a  very  slight  idea  of  the  struggle 
young  Randolph  made  to  keep  his  head  above  water,  and  it 
presents  a  pretty  true  picture  of  the  difficulties  a  boy  will  ordi 
narily  encounter  in  attempting  to  make  his  way  unaided  in  a 
great  city  like  New  York.  Of  course  difficulties  vary  in  char 
acter  and  severity  ;  but  it  would  not  be  safe  for  the  average  boy 
to  expect  to  find  less  than  those  that  surrounded  our  hero. 
Some  wrould  be  more  fortunate,  while  others  would  be  less 
favored.  Herbert  Randolph  was  especially  fortunate  in  meet 
ing  Bob  Hunter,  whose  friendship  proved  as  true  as  steel. 
What  would  have  become  of  him  while  in  the  hands  of  old 
Gunwagner,  but  for  Bob's  effort  to  rescue  him  ?  And,  again, 
how  could  he  have  fought  away  despondency  during  his  enforced 
idleness  had  he  lived  by  himself  in  a  cold  and  cheerless 
room  ?  Brave  and  manly  as  he  was,  he  owed  much  to  his  warm 
hearted  companion,  whose  presence  and  sympathy  revived  his 
drooping  and  almost  crushed  spirits. 

As  the  days  passed  by,  Herbert  Randolph  turned  his  atten 
tion  to  the  most  practical  purposes.  He  almost  entirely  gave 
up  looking  for  a  steady  situation,  and  devoted  his  time  to  doing 
whatever  odd  jobs  he  could  hit  upon  that  would  bring  him  in  a 
little  money.  Among  the  many  kinds  of  humble  employment 
to  which  he  bent  his  energies  was  that  of  working  the  hoist.  In 

o  o 

New  York  the  tall  warehouses,  those  not  supplied  with  an  ele 
vator,  have  a  windlass  at  the  top,  to  which  is  attached  a  heavy 
rope,  that  passes  down  through  a  wide  opening  to  the  ground 
floor.  This  rope,  with  a  large  iron  hook  at  the  end,  is  attached 
to  heavy  cases,  or  whatever  is  to  be  taken  to  any  of  the  upper 
lofts.  Another  rope,  passing  over  a  big  wheel,  when  pulled 
turns  the  windlass.  This  winds  the  main  rope  around  it,  and 
thus  draws  it  up,  taking  with  it  its  load,  whatever  that  may  be. 


2O6 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


Perhaps  no  harder  or  less  poetic  work  to  an  educated  boy  could 
be  found  than  this  ;  yet  Herbert  Randolph  did  not  hesitate  to 
throw  off  his  coat,  and  work  with  an  aching-  back  and  smarting 
hands  as  few  porters  would  do. 

He  worked  faithfully  and  honestly,  with  no  hope  of  reward 
other  than  the  money  he  would  earn  by  his  labor.  And  yet 
this  very  employment — this  humble  porter  work — opened  up  to 
him  an  opportunity  of  which  he  had  never  dreamed — suggested 
to  him  an  idea  that  he  never 
before  thought  of. 

It  came  about  in  this  way. 
One  day,  after  he  had  toiled 
for  two  hours  or  so  on  the 
hoist,   and    had    finished  his 
work,    he*  went  up 
to  the  cashier  to  get 
his    money,   as    he 
had    done    many 
times    before.       A 
man  with  a  satchel 
s  t  r  a  p  p  e  d  to     his 
shoulder    was    just 
ahead  of  him. 

"Good  morning, 
Mr.  Smith,"  said 
the  man  with  the 
satchel,  addressing 
the  cashier. 

"  Good  morning," 
responded  the  lat 
ter.  "  I  am  glad 


HERBERT    RANDOLPH    WORKING   ON    THE    HOIST. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  207 

you  came  today,  Mr.  Woodman,  for  we  have  an  unusually  large 
supply  of  stamps  on  hand." 

"The  market  is  very  much  overstocked  at  present,"  replied 
Woodman,  unslinging  his  satchel,  and  resting  it  on  the  desk. 
"  I  bought  a  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stamps  yesterday  from 
one  party  at  five  per  cent  off." 

"  Five  per  cent,"  repeated  the  cashier,  arching  his  eyebrows. 

"Yes,  five  per  cent." 

"  And  you  expect  to  buy  from  us  at  that  rate  ?" 

"  I  wish  I  could  pay  you  more,  but  my  money  is  all  tied  up 
now — the  market  is  glutted,  fairly  glutted." 

"  I  should  think  it  would  be,  when  you  buy  them  in  thou 
sand  dollar  lots." 

"  Well,  that  does  seem  like  a  large  amount  of  stamps,  but 
I  know  of  one  lot — a  ten  thousand  dollar  lot — that  I  could  buy 
within  an  hour,  if  I  had  the  money  to  put  into  them'." 

"  You  could  never  get  rid  of  so  many,  Woodman,"  said  the 
cashier,  surprised  at  the  broker's  statement. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  could  work  them  off  sooner  or  later,  and  would 
get  par  for  most  of  them  too." 

"  How  do  you  do  it  ? " 

"  I  put  them  up  in  small  lots  of  fifty  cents  and  a  dollar,  and 
upwards,  and  sell  them  to  my  customers.  Of  course,  when  I 
buy  big  lots  I  do  a  little  wholesaling,  but  I  put  away  all  I  can 
not  sell  at  the  time." 

"  They  are  sure  to  go  sooner  or  later,  I  suppose,"  said  the 
cashier. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sure  to  sell.  During  the  summer  months  very 
few  stamps  come  into  the  market." 

"  And  this  gives  you  an  opportunity  to  work  off  your  sur 
plus  stock  ?" 


208  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  presume  you  sell  as  a  rule  to  stores  and  business  offices." 

"Yes  ;  I  have  a  regular  line  of  customers  who  buy  all  of 
their  stamps  off  me — customers  that  I  worked  up  myself." 

"  And  they  prefer  buying  of  you  to  going  to  the  post  office 
for  their  supply  ?  " 

"  Certainly  ;  for  I  give  them  just  as  good  stamps,  and  by 
buying  of  me  they  save  themselves  the  trouble  of  going  to  the 
post  office  for  them." 

Herbert  Randolph  was  waiting  for  his  money,  and  over 
heard  this  conversation  between  the  cashier  and  the  stamp 
broker.  He  made  no  effort  to  hear  it,  for  it  did  not  relate  to 
him.  They  spoke  so  loud,  however,  that  he  caught  every  word 
distinctly,  and  before  they  had  finished  talking  the  idea  flashed 
across  his  mind  that  he  would  try  his  hand  at  that  business. 
Mr.  Woodman,  as  good  fortune  willed  it  for  young  Randolph, 
could  take  only  a  portion  of  the  stamps  the  cashier  wished  to 
dispose  of.  When  the  broker  had  completed  his  purchase  and 
gone,  Herbert  stepped  up  to  the  cashier  for  the  money  due 
him  for  working  on  the  hoist.  Mr.  Smith  handed  it  to  him 
cheerfully,  with  a  pleasant  remark,  which  gave  young  Ran 
dolph  an  opportunity  to  talk  with  him  about  the  stamp  broker 
age  idea  that  had  set  his  brain  on  fire. 

o 

"  How  much  capital  have  you?"  asked  the  cashier,  with 
growing  interest. 

"  With  the  money  you  just  paid  me  I  have  three  dollars  and 
seventy  five  cents,"  answered  Herbert,  his  face  coloring. 

The  cashier  smiled. 

"  And  you  think  you  could  become  a  broker  on  that  capi 
tal  ?  "  said  he,  with  mingled  surprise  and  amusement. 

"  I  think  I  could  try  it  on  that  capital  if  you  would   sell  me 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  209 

the  stamps,"  replied  Herbert,  with   such  intelligent  assurance 
that  he  interested  the  cashier. 

"  You  can  certainly  have  the  stamps,"  answered  the  latter, 
"  and  I  will  aid  you  in  every  way  possible,  but  -  "  and  there 
was  an  ominous  pause,  as  if  thinking  how  he  could  best  dis 
courage  the  boy  from  such  an  undertaking. 

Herbert  divined  his  thoughts,  and  said,  "  I  know  such  an 
idea  must  seem  foolish  to  you,  who  handle  so  much  money; 
but  to  me  - 

"  Yes,  you  may  be  right,  young  man,"  interrupted  the 
cashier.  "  You  certainly  interest  me.  I  like  ambition  and 
pluck,  and  you  evidently  have  both.  When  would  you  like  the 
stamps  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Herbert,  in  a  tone  that  lent  strength  to 
his  words.      "You  may  give  them  to  me  now,    if  you   please— 
three  dollars'  worth.      I  may  need  the  seventy  five  cents  before 
I  succeed  in  selling  any  stamps." 

"  It  is  a  wise  precaution  to  avoid  tying  up  all  your  capital 
in  one  thing,"  laughed  the  cashier,  while  counting  out  the 
stamps.  "  They  will  cost  you  two  dollars  and  eighty  five  cents, 
at  five  per  cent  discount,  the  same  as  I  gave  Mr.  Woodman." 

When  the  transaction  had  been  completed,  young  Ran 
dolph  left  the  office  hurriedly,  anxious  to  learn  what  the  possi 
bilities  of  his  new  undertaking  were. 

<j 

Ten  times  during  that  first  day  did  he  return  to  Mr.  Smith 
for  stamps,  and  ten  times  was  his  supply  exhausted  by  custom 
ers  to  whom  he  sold  at  par — resulting  in  a  profit  of  a  dollar  and 
fifty  cents — an  income  that  to  him  was  a  small  fortune. 

That  night  Herbert  Randolph  joined  Bob  Hunter  with 
brighter  eyes  and  more  buoyant  spirits  than  he  had  known 
since  Mr.  Goldwin's  failure,  now  nearly  three  months  ago. 


2 1 o  THE  BOY  BR OKER. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

IN    BUSINESS    FOR    HIMSELF. 

ONLY  strong  characters  are  able  to  lift  themselves  out  of 
poverty  and  adversity  by  sheer  force  of  will,  unaided  by 
any  one.  Such  a  character  Herbert  Randolph  proved  himself 
to  be.  For  nearly  three  months  he  had  faced  the  most  dis 
couraging  prospects.  With  education,  with  a  knowledge  of 
accounts,  with  splendid  intelligence,  with  manly  pride  and  noble 
ambition,  he  went  from  luxurious  banking  apartments  to  the 
cold  wintry  streets,  down,  down  the  cheerless  and  grim  descent, 
till  he  reached  the  bottom,  where  he  found  himself  in  competi 
tion  with  the  dregs  of  humanity — one  of  them,  as  far  as  his 
employment  went.  Imagine  this  proud  spirited  boy  humbled 
to  the  degree  of  bidding  side  by  side  for  work  with  a  ragged 
Italian,  a  broken  down  and  blear  eyed  drunkard,  a  cruel  faced 
refugee  from  the  penitentiary,  or  a  wretched,  unkempt  tramp. 
How  his  young,  brave  heart  must  have  ached  as  he  found  him 
self  working  on  the  hoist  or  in  the  street  with  loathsome  char 
acters  of  this  sort — characters  that  purity  and  self  respect  could 
only  shun  as  a  pestilence. 

But  this  he  was  forced  to  do — either  this,  or  to  acknowledge 
his  city  career  a  failure,  and  return  home  with  crushed  spirits 
and  shattered  pride,  a  disappointment  to  his  father  and  mother 
and  the  butt  of  rude  rural  jokes  for  his  more  or  less  envious 
neighbors. 


THE  BO  Y  BR OKER.  2 1 1 

The  latter  is  just  what  most  boys  would  have  done,  but  not 
so  young-  Randolph.  His  eyes  were  closed  to  any  such  escape 
from  his  present  wretched  condition.  Herein  he  showed  his 
superior  strength.  But  how  little  he  realized,  as  he  worked 
with  doomed  determination  at  these  cheerless  tasks,  that  this 

O<^> 

very  employment  would  lead  him  into  the  light,  as  it  ultimately 
did.  Boys  see  nothing  but  drudgery  in  such  employment,  or 
in  any  humble  position.  They  want  to  commence  work  at 
something  genteel.  An  easy  clerical  position  like  the  one 
young  Randolph  had  with  Mr.  Goldwin  appeals  strongly  to 
their  taste.  Fine  clothes,  white  hands,  little  work  and  short 
hours — these  are  in  great  demand  among  boys.  Young  Ran 
dolph,  indeed,  was  no  exception  to  the  rule.  He  sought  a 
position  in  a  bank  and  got  it.  Fortunately  for  him,  however, 
the  bank  failed,  and  he  was  thrown  into  the  streets.  But  for 
this  he  would  have  been  a  clerk  still — a  little  three  dollar  ma 
chine,  which  bears  no  patent,  and  possesses  no  especial  value 
over  the  ten  thousand  other  machines  capable  of  performing 
similar  work.  His  dream  of  wealth  and  position  would  in  all 
probability  never  have  materialized.  He  would  doubtless  have 
in  time  become  a  head  clerk  at  a  respectable  salary.  But  how 
little  this  would  have  satisfied  his  ambition  !  His  desire  to  be 
at  the  head  of  the  firm  could  never  have  been  realized,  for  he 
would  not  have  had  the  money  to  place  himself  there.  The 
result  would  have  been  clerking,  clerking,  miserable,  aimless 
clerking,  and  nothing  more.  But  now,  through  what  seemed 
to  him  his  misfortune  had  come  good  fortune — through  the 
drudgery  of  the  hoist  had  come  a  business  of  his  own — a  grow 
ing,  paying,  business — a  business  of  great  possibilities.  The 
suffering  he  had  undergone  did  him  no  permanent  harm.  On 
the  contrary  it  enabled  him  to  appreciate  more  keenly  the  op- 


2 1 2  THE  BO  Y  BR OKER. 

portunity  he  now  had  for  making  money  and  supplying- himself 
with  the  necessaries,  and  some  of  the  luxuries,  of  life. 

Young  Randolph's  brokerage  business  grew  day  by  day  as 
he  added  new  customers  and  learned  how  to  manage  it  more 
successfully.  In  a  little  time  he  saw  the  necessity  of  having  a 
place  where  his  customers  could  reach  him  by  mail  or  messen 
ger.  He  therefore  arranged  with  a  party  on  Nassau  Street  to 
allow  him  desk  room.  Then  followed  this  card  : 


HERBERT  RANDOLPH, 

111    NASSAU   STREET, 


BUYS  AND  SELLS  NEW  YORK. 

ALL  KINDS  OF  FOREIGN  COIN  AND  PAPER. 

United  States  Silver  and  Postage 
Stamps  a  Specialty. 


It  was  with  much  pleasure  that  he  studied  these  neatly 
printed  cards.  The  first  thing  he  did  after  receiving  them  from 
the  printer  was  to  inclose  one  in  a  letter  to  his  mother.  He 
had  already  written  her  glowing  accounts  of  his  growing  busi 
ness,  and  he  felt  that  this  card  would  give  a  realism  to  his  pen 
pictures  that  he  had  been  unable  to  impart.  He  thought  long 
and  with  pride  how  sacredly  that  little  bit  of  pasteboard  would 
be  treasured  by  his  parents — how  proudly  they  would  show  it 
to  their  neighbors,  and  the  comments  that  it  would  bring 
forth. 

Then  he  took  one  over  to  Bob  Hunter,  who  exhibited  no 
little  surprise  as  he  read  it  admiringly. 


THE  BO  \ T  BR  OKER.  2 1 3 

Later  in  the  evening  he  and  the  newsboy  went  as  usual  to 
visit  Tom  Flannery,  who  now,  poor  boy,  seemed  to  be  yielding 
to  that  dread  disease — consumption.  How  his  face  brightened 
up  as  he  looked  at  the  card  with  scarcely  less  pride  than  if  it 
had  been  his  own  ! 

"  I  wish  I  could  get  into  that  business,  Herbert,  when  I  get 
well,"  said  he,  turning  the  card  languidly  in  his  thin,  emaciated 
fingers ;  "  you'n'  me'n'  Bob.  Yes,  I  would  like  that,  for  we 
always  had  such  good  times  together,  didn't  we,  Bob  ?" 

"  Yes,  we  did,  Tom,"  answered  Bob,  tenderly.  "  I  guess  as 
good  times  as  anybody  ever  had,  even  if  we  didn't  have  much 
money." 

"  So  I  think,  Bob.  I've  thought  of  it  a  good  many  times 
while  I've  been  sick  here — of  the  detective  business  and  all,  and 
how  grand  you  managed  the  whole  thing.  But  then  you  al 
ways  done  everything  grand,  Bob.  None  er  the  boys  could  do 
it  like  you." 

"  You  do  some  things  much  better  than  I  could,  Tom,"  said 
Bob. 

"  No,  Bob.      I  never  could  do  nothing  like  you." 

"  You  bear  your  sickness  more  patiently  than  I  could,  and 
that  is  harder  to  do  than  anything  I  ever  did,"  replied  Bob. 

"  Well,  I  have  to  do  it,  you  know,  Bob.  There  ain't  no 
other  way,  is  there,  Herb — 

The  last  part  of  the  word  was  lost  in  violent  coughing  that 
racked  the  boy's  feeble  frame  terribly. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  talking  too  much,  Tom,"  said  Herbert. 
"  We  must  not  allow  you  to  say  any  more  at  present." 

Ten  days  later,  and  Tom  had  grown  too  weak  to  be 
dressed.  Part  of  the  time  he  lay  bolstered  up  in  bed,  but  even 
this  taxed  his  strength  too  heavily.  He  had  become  very  much 


2 1 4  THE  BO Y  BROKER. 

wasted,  and  was  little  more  than  a  skeleton.  All  hope  of  his 
recovery  had  been  given  up,  and  it  was  now  simply  a  question 
of  how  long  he  could  be  kept  alive.  Bob  and  Herbert  brought 
him  choice  fruits,  and  drew  liberally  from  their  slender  purses, 
to  buy  for  him  whatever  would  tend  to  make  him  more  com 
fortable  or  would  gratify  his  fancy. 

Poor  Mrs.  Flannery  was  almost  overcome  with  sorrow  as  she 
saw  her  boy  wasting  away  and  sinking  lower  and  lower  as  each 
day  passed  by.  He  was  her  only  child,  and  she  loved  him  with 
all  the  force  of  her  great  mother's  heart. 

At  length  the  end  came.  Bob  and  Herbert  were  present 
with  the  grief  stricken  mother,  trying  to  comfort  her  and  strug 
gling  to  repress  the  sorrow  each  felt  at  the  close  approach  of 
death. 

For  several  hours  the  sick  boy  had  been  in  a  sort  of  stupor 
from  which  it  seemed  probable  that  he  would  never  rally.  He 
lay  like  one  dead,  scarcely  breathing.  Towards  midnight, 
however,  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  upon  the  three  tear 
stained  faces  beside  his  bed.  An  expression  of  deepest  pity 
settled  upon  his  countenance,  and  he  spoke  with  much  effort, 
saying  : 

"  Don't  cry,  mother  ;  don't  feel  so  bad  for  me.  You  have 
Bob  and  Herbert  left.  They  will  look  out  for  you  when  I  am 
gone,"  whispered  the  dying  boy  faintly,  and  he  turned  his  eyes 
for  confirmation  to  the  friend  who  had  never  failed  him. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Bob,  pressing  the  sufferer's  hand  warmly. 
"We  will  do  everything  you  could  wish  us  to  for  your  mother 
—you  would  have  done  it  for  either  of  us,  Tom." 

The  latter's  eyes  moistened  and  grew  bright  with  a  feeling 
of  joy  at  this  assurance  from  Bob — this  last  proof  of  his  true 
friendship. 


THE  13  O  Y  BR  OKER.  2 1 5 

"  I  knew  it  before,  mother,"  he  said,  nerving  himself  for  the 
effort,  "  but  it  makes  me  happy  to  hear  him  say  it  before  you 
—to  hear  him  say  it  before  I  go." 

"  And  you  may  rely  upon  me  also,  Tom,  to  join  Bob  in  do 
ing  for  your  mother  whatever  would  please  you  most,"  said 
Herbert,  unable  to  keep  back  the  hot  tears. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  of  that,  Herbert.  You  and  Bob  are  just 
alike,  and  can  do  more  than  I  could  if  I  had  lived.  I  am  so 
glad  I  knew  you,  Herbert,"  continued  the  dying  boy,  his  face 
flushing  with  momentary  animation  as  he  recalled  the  past. 
41  What  good  times  we  have  had,  you  and  me  and  Bob  !  I 
thought  they  would  last  always,  but — but — well  I  wish  I  might 
have  lived  to  go  into  business  with  you.  I  would  have  tried 
my  best  to  please  you,  and— 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Herbert,  noticing  the  sufferer's  hesi 
tation. 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  you  if  the  business,  your  new  business, 
wouldn't  get  big  enough  to  take  Bob  in  with  you — to  make 
him  a  partner,  so  he  can  make  a  lot  of  money,  too.  I  was  al 
most  afraid  to  ask  you,  but— 

"  That  is  already  fixed,"  said  Bob  hoarsely,  almost  overcome 
by  the  solicitude  of  his  dying  friend.  "  Herbert  gave  me  an 
interest  in  the  business  today,  and  I  shall  commence  working 
with  him  as  soon  as  I  am  needed." 

"  I  am  so  glad,  so  glad,"  responded  the  sufferer  faintly,  and 
Avith  a  smile  that  told  plainly  the  joy  this  knowledge  gave 
him.  "  It's  all  right  now,"  he  continued  slowly,  and  with  greater 
effort,  for  the  little  strength  he  had  left  was  fast  leaving  him. 
"  You  will  be  taken  care  of,  mother,  and  Bob  will  be  taken  care 
of  by  Herbert,"  he  went  on,  sinking  into  a  half  unconscious 
state.  "  I  know  they  will  do  well  and  will  make  rich  men  and 


2l6 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


have  everything  in  the  world  that  they  want.  I  wish  I  could 
see  them  then  with  a  big  banking  house  and  clerks  and  private 
offices  and  errand  boys  and  electric  bells  and  fine  carriages  and 
horses  and  a  brown  stone  house  in  the  avenue,  may  be." 


TOM  FLANNEKY'S  DEATHBED. 


In  a  little  while  he  regained  full  consciousness  as  if  by  a 
powerful  effort,  and  said  in  a  faint  whisper  : 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,  mother — my  knife,  my  little  brass 
knife." 

Mrs.  Flannery  brought  it  and  placed  it  in  his  thin  hands. 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  2 1 7 

He  looked  at  it  with  such  a  strange  expression  of  affection 
—a  little  well  worn  knife  of  inexpensive  make.      How  long  he 
had  carried  it  in  his  pocket,  how  many  times  he   had  held  it  in 
his  hand,    and   now — yes,    now,   he  held   it   for  the  last  time- 
only  this  little  knife,  yet  his  all,  his  only  legacy. 

"You  won't  want  it,  will  you,  mother?"  said  he,  with  moist 
eyes  and  struggling  with  emotion. 

"  No,  no,  Tommy,"  sobbed  the  broken  hearted  mother. 

"  I  knew  you  wouldn't,"  said  he,  "  for  I  want  to  give  it  to 
Bob.  It  ain't  much,  I  know,  Bob,"  he  continued,  addressing 
the  latter  ;  "  but  it's  all  I  have.  You  will  keep  it,  won't  you, 
to  remember  me  by  ?  When  you  get  to  be  a  man— a  rich  busi 
ness  man  with  fine  offices  and  a  house  of  your  own,  look  at 
this  knife  sometimes — my  knife,  and  think  of  me,  and  how  we 
used  to  work  together.  Yes,  you  will  do  so,  won't  you,  Bob  ?'r 

"  I  will,  Tom,  I  will,"  answered  Bob,  as  he  took  the  little 
knife  into  his  own  hands.  "  I  will  keep  it  always  to  remind  me 
of  you,"  and  he  bowed  his  head  upon  the  bed  beside  his  dying 
friend  and  cried  with  sincere  grief. 

"  It's  all  right  now,"  responded  the  sufferer.  "All  right," 
he  repeated,  as  his  mother  pressed  her  lips  to  his  forehead. 

"  All  right,"  again,  so  feebly  that  the  last  word  fainted  half 
spoken  by  his  dying  lips. 

In  a  few  moments  the  last  death  struggle  was  over.  He 
was  gone,  poor  Tom,  the  honest,  trustful  boy  with  a  pure  heart 
and  noble  friendship — cut  off  in  the  morning  of  his  life  by  a 
sickness  brought  on  by  exposure,  and  an  exposure  made  neces 
sary  that  he  might  earn  the  means  to  supply  his  humble  wants. 
A  cruel  world  this  seems  sometimes,  when  one  reflects  how  un 
evenly  the  joys  and  sorrows,  and  luxuries  and  misery  are  dis 
tributed  among  brothers  and  sisters,  neighbors  and  countrymen. 


218  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TOM    FLANNERV'S    FUNERAL. 

grief  of  the  broken  hearted  mother  and  the  two  faith 
ful  friends  can  better  be  imagined  than  described.  Words, 
however  ably  chosen,  fail  utterly  to  picture  the  sufferings  of  the 
human  heart.  In  imagination  we  can  see  the  three  bending 
over  the  still  form  of  him  to  whose  heart  each  was  attached  so 
firmly.  One,  a  well  aged  woman,  still  clinging  passionately  to 
the  cold  hands  and  moaning  with  almost  frantic  grief.  Now 
she  presses  the  lifeless  figure  to  her  breast,  appealing  wildly  to 
it  to  speak  to  her,  to  call  her  "  mother  "  just  once  more.  Agaii: 
she  falls  upon  her  knees  and  prays  as  only  one  prays  with  burst 
ing  heart,  that  her  boy,  her  Tom,  her  only  child,  her  very  life, 
may  be  restored  to  her.  With  her  tears  are  mingled  those  of 
Herbert  and  Bob,  whose  young  spirits  overflow  with  sorrow,  not 
alone  for  their  own  loss  at  the  hands  of  death  but  at  the  wild, 
tumultuous  crief  of  the  bereaved  mother. 

<_> 

A  little  later  we  see  the  undertaker  arrive  with  all  his  dread 
paraphernalia,  then  the  casket, -a  plain,  neat  one  purchased  by 
Herbert  and  Bob,  in  due  time  receives  the  dead  body. 

The  funeral  follows  speedily,  and  is  held  in  Mrs.  Flannery's 
rooms.  In  one  of  them  she  lies  in  bed  helplessly  ill  from  grief 
and  utter  prostration.  All  preparations  for  the  burial  have  been 
made  by  Herbert  and  Bob.  The  minister  arrives,  and  after  a 


THE  BOY  BR OKER.  2 1 9 

hurried  talk  with  Herbert  devotes  himself  to  Mrs.  Flannery, 
trying  to  lessen  her  sorrow  by  such  words  of  consolation  and 
assurance  as  his  calling  enables  him  to  speak  with  something 
like  holy  authority. 

A  tall,  fine  looking  man  with  a  younof,  sweet  faced  girl  now 

o  /  o  o 

knocks  at  the  door.  They  are  Mr.  Goldwin  and  his  daughter, 
and  the  latter  brings  a  cross  of  flowers  for  a  burial  offering. 

O  O 

How  strangely  out  of  place  they  seem  in  these  small,  barely 
furnished  attic  rooms,  yet  they  have  come  with  honest  purpose 
to  pay  honor  to  the  humble  dead.  Mr.  Goldwin  had  known  of 
Tom's  brave  part  in  rescuing  Herbert  from  the  villains  by  whom 
he  had  been  imprisoned.  He  had  at  that  time  sent  him  a  re 
ward,  and  now  he  came  sorrowfully  to  mingle  his  tears 
with  those  of  the  lowly  friends  of  the  dead.  Ray  had  begged 
to  come  with  him,  and  he  was  glad  to  grant  her  the  request,  for 
he  felt  that  she  would  receive  a  lesson  from  this  simple  funeral 
such  as  could  not  be  learned  elsewhere. 

A  delegation  of  newsboys  about  the  age  of  the  dead  now 
arrived.  They  had  known  him  well  as  a  rival  trader,  as  a  true 
friend  and  agreeable  companion.  They  had  often  asked  after 
him  during  his  illness,  and  now  they  came,  their  bright  young 
faces  heavy  with  sorrow,  to  follow  his  remains  to  the  tomb. 
They  brought  with  them  a  handsome  wreath  of  flowers  bearing 
the  simple  word  "  Tom." 

The  casket  was  carried  into  the  sick  room  and  placed  on  a 
table  not  far  from  the  bed  on  which  Mrs.  Flannery  lay  sobbing. 
When  all  had  been  seated,  the  minister  rose  and  prayed, 
such  a  prayer  as  is  seldom  offered.  The  occasion  was  an  in 
spiration  to  the  holy  man.  In  all  his  years  of  ministry  he  had 
never  been  called  upon  to  attend  such  a  funeral  as  this — so  sim 
ple,  so  strange,  and  yet  so  genuinely  sad.  It  was  a  boy's  fu- 


220  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

neral,  and  the  audience  was  composed  almost  wholly  of  boys. 
The  casket  had  been  bought  by  boys,  the  details  of  the  funeral 
had  been  arranged  by  boys,  and  boys — nearly  a  score  of  them 
—were  there  to  mourn  the  loss  of  their  friend.  And  they  were 
no  ordinary  boys,  with  careless,  thoughtless  manners,  but  sturdy 
lads  who  were  almost  men  in  thought,  for  long,  long  months 
had  they,  like  the  deceased,  had  to  think  and  act  for  themselves. 
Mr.  Goldwin  and  Ray,  aided  to  some  extent  by  a  few  of  the 
boys,  sang  a  hymn,  and  then  the  minister,  after  reading  the 
Bible,  gave  a  feeling  and  impressive  talk  that  went  home  to 
the  hearts  of  every  one  present.  Bob  and  Herbert  could  not 
have  felt  greater  sorrow  had  the  dead  been  their  own  brother. 

«_> 

They  tried,   however,   to  restrain   their  grief,  as  everything  de 
pended  upon  them,  since  Mrs.  Flannery  was  now  helpless. 

At  the  close  of  the  service  all  except  Mrs.  Flannery  passed 
by  the  casket,  looking  for  the  last  time  upon  the  features  of  the 
dead  boy  before  the  lid  was  closed.  The  mother  was  bolstered 
up  in  bed,  and  the  casket  was  lowered  beside  her,  where  she 
too  could  view  the  remains.  The  pall  bearers  were  selected 
from  the  delegation  of  newsboys,  as  I  think  Tom  would  have 
wished  had  he  expressed  himself  upon  this  point. 

In  a  little  time  the  casket  had  been  placed  within  the  hearse, 
and  this  strange  funeral  party  started  on  its  solemn  journey  to 
the  tomb.  Mr.  Goldwin  and  Ray  and  Herbert  and  Bob  occu 
pied  the  carriage  of  chief  mourners — not  that  the  two  former 
could  strictly  be  called  mourners,  but  their  object  in  going  to 
the  tomb  was  to  comfort  the  two  boys,  for  whose  conduct  Mr. 
Goldwin  had  the  greatest  admiration. 

The  newsboys  followed  in  other  carriages,  which  had  been 
secured  by  Bob  Hunter  without  cost,  when  it  was  known  for 
what  purpose  they  were  wanted. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


221 


The  remains  of  the 
dead  boy  were  buried 
beside  those  of  his 
father  and  sister  i  n 
Greenwood  Cemetery, 
where  his  mother  had  bought  a  plot  at 
the  death  of  her  husband. 

"  We  must  buy  a  stone,  Herbert, 
for  Tom's  grave  when  we  can  get  the 
money,"  said  Bob,  as  they  came  slowly 
away  from  the  cemetery. 

"  Yes,  we  will  do  that  some  time, 
Bob,"  answered  Herbert,  with  swollen 
eyes.  "  But  our  first  duty  is  to  take  care  of  his  mother." 

"  Yes,  we  promised  him  that  we  would  look  after  her,  and 
we  must  do  it — he  would  have  done  it  for  either  of  us,"  an 
swered  Bob,  choking  with  emotion  as  his  mind  went  back  to 
the  death  scene. 

"I  wish  I  could  help  do  something  for  Mrs.  Flannery,  poor 
woman,"  said  Ray,  addressing  her  father. 


TOM    FLANNKRY'S    FUNERAL. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  you  do  anything  in  reason, 
my  dear,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin  with  pleasure.  "  Nothing 
would  make  me  more  proud  of  my  daughter  than  to  see  her 
helping  others  who  need  encouragement  and  assistance." 

"  You  shall  be  proud  of  me  then,  father,"  replied  Ray  with 
enthusiasm.  "  I  am  so  glad  you  took  me  with  you  today.  It 

has  given  me  a 
new  idea  of  life. 
Now  I  feel  as  if 
I  could  be  o  f 
some  use  in  the 
world." 

"You  certain- 

4£       •  I  Ifc  I   i£:  T*        !>'  can  if  you  wish 

to  do  good,  for 
the  competition 
in  that  line  is  not 
so  great  as  it 
should  be,"  an 
swered  Mr.  Gold- 
win  thoughtfully. 
"It  looks  so 
in  Mrs.  F  1  a  n- 


RAY    READING    TO    MRS.    FLANNF.RY. 


nery's  case  surely,"  remarked  Herbert ;  "  there  were  few  to  help 
her  in  her  terrible  trouble." 

"  Did  she  have  no  friends  but  you  and  Mr.  Hunter?"  asked 
Ray. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  answered  young  Randolph,  "  at  least 
none  that  I  know  of." 

"  What  would  she  have  done,  poor  woman,  but  for  your 
kindness? " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  223 

"  I  do  not  like  to  think  about  it,"  replied   Herbert  with   a 
shudder. 

"  I  think  I  know  of  a  crood  woman  who  would  cm  down  and 

«_»  o 

take  care  of  Mrs.  Flannery  while  she   is  sick,"  said   Mr.    Gold- 
win.      "  She  certainly  needs  good  nursing  for  the  present." 

"  I  wish  such  a  woman  could   be  had,"   said   Herbert,   "for 
both  Bob  and  myself  are  anxious  to  get  to  work." 


224  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

IN    A    NEW    HOME. 

^T^HREE  weeks  after  the  funeral  Mrs.  Flannery  had  suffi 
ciently  recovered  her  strength  so  that  she  could  safely 
be  moved  from  the  rooms  she  had  occupied  so  long.  Ray 
Goldwin  had  done  much  towards  bringing  about  this  satisfac 
tory  result  by  her  frequent  visits  and  cheerful  manner — always 
saying  and  doing  the  right  thing  with  admirable  tact.  She 
became  much  interested  in  the  childless  woman  whose  heart 
still  bled  unceasingly  for  her  "poor  Tom,  poor  Tom,"  as  she 
murmured  often  to  herself. 

At  the  funeral  Ray  had  contrasted  her  own  life  with  that 
of  Herbert  and  Bob.  As  she  pondered  over  what  these  two 
humble  boys,  with  so  slender  means,  had  done  for  the  dying 
lad  and  his  grief  stricken  mother,  she  felt  how  much  she  suf 
fered  by  the  comparison. 

The  solemnity  of  the  occasion  and  the  glowing  words  of 
praise  for  the  two  friends  of  the  dead,  spoken  with  such  pecu 
liar  force  by  the  minister,  led  her,  as  was  natural,  to  overestimate 
their  worth  and  to  undervalue  her  own.  With  the  same  spirit, 
therefore,  with  which  she  admired  Herbert  and  Bob  for  their 
acts,  she  condemned  her  own  inactivity,  and  there  in  that  little 
room  beside  the  remains  of  the  humble  newsboy  she  resolved 
that  she  would  be  something  more  than  a  society  girl  as  her 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 

life  had  hitherto  been  tending.  She 
had  learned  a  valuable  lesson  and 
given  place  to  a  purpose  as  noble  as 
it  was  humane. 

That  she  was  carrying  out  this  pur 
pose  her  kind  acts  and  words  of  com 
fort  to  Mrs.  Flannery  amply  attested. 
She,  however,  was  not  alone  the  source 
of    comfort 
while  on   these 
missions    of 


225 


MRS.    FLANNERY   AND    THE    TWO    BOYS    IN    THEIR    NEW    HOME. 


226  77/7:  BOY  BROKER. 

noble  charity,  for  the  sick  woman  gave  her,  unconsciously,  to 
be  sure,  as  she  talked  of  Herbert  Randolph,  a  taste  of  happi 
ness  of  a  finer  and  sweeter  character  than  she  herself,  poor 
woman,  could  ever  hope  again  to  feel.  It  was  born  of  hero 
worship — a  worship  ripening  into  simple,  childlike  sentiment. 
I  say  hero  worship,  for  such  her  thoughts  of  young  Randolph 
and  Bob  Hunter  were  when  she  first  realized  how  kind  and 
generous  they  had  been  to  him  who  now  lay  dead,  and  to 
his  helpless  and  heart  broken  mother. 

Such  thoughts,  however,  to  a  young  girl  just  verging  upon 
the  age  of  woman,  and  when  the  hero  is  a  noble,  manly  boy 
like  Randolph,  are  but  the  buds  of  the  more  beautiful  and 
fragrant  flower  which  time  is  sure  to  bring  forth. 

And  this  is  the  way  that  Ray  came  to  find  such  pleasure  in 
the  simple  talk  of  Mrs.  Flannery — talk  that  but  for  this  mag 
netic  interest  must  have  been  unbearably  dull  to  her  young 
ears. 

Herbert  and  Bob,  feeling  that  it  would  be  better  for  the 
bereaved  mother  to  get  away  from  her  present  rooms  where  she 
was  constantly  reminded  of  the  dead,  leased  a  neat  little  flat  in 
Harlem,  to  which  she  was  moved,  together  with  her  furniture. 
Here  they  designed  making  a  home  for  themselves,  inaugurat 
ing  Mrs.  Flannery  as  housekeeper.  It  seemed  to  them  that 
they  could  in  no  other  way  carry  out  so  fully  the  wishes  of 
their  dead  friend.  The  housework  would  occupy  her  mind  and 
keep  her  busy,  and  by  their  living  thus  together  she  would  have 
with  her  the  two  friends  in  whose  care  the  deceased  had  placed 
her.  Moreover  each  desired  a  better  home  than  their  cheer 
less  attic  room  had  been  to  them,  and  they  felt  that  they  could 
now  afford  to  spend  more  upon  themselves. 

Thus  the  flat  was  taken  and  with  Mrs.  Flannery's  furniture, 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  227 

a  few  new  things  from  the  store  and  little  fancy  articles  made 
and  contributed  by  Ray  and  her  mother,  the  boys  found  them 
selves  very  happily  situated  in  their  new  home.  Mrs.  Flannery, 
too,  while  at  her  new  duties,  recovered  more  quickly  than  would 
seem  possible  from  the  terrible  shock  she  had  sustained.  In 
young  Randolph  and  Bob  Hunter  she  found  all  she  could  have 
desired  in  sons  of  her  own — found,  as  her  poor  dying  boy  had 
said,  that  they  would  look  out  for  her,  and  could  do  more  for 
her  than  he.  And  she  proved  a  good  mother  to  them,  study- 
ino-  their  every  want  with  gratitude  and  affection. 

To  Bob  especially  the  comforts  of  his  present  life  gave 
oreat  happiness,  and  as  the  weeks  rolled  by  he  became  more 
and  more  attached  to  his  new  home,  and  spent  all  the  spare 
time  possible  in  study,  being  taught  by  Herbert. 


228  THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE    BOY    BROKER. 

WHILE  young  Randolph  was  away  from  his  business  dur 
ing  the  few  days  of  the  death  and  burial  of   his  friend, 
the  proprietor  of  a  house  from  whom   Herbert  bought  a  great 
many    stamps  complained  to  his  bookkeeper  about  the  large 
supply  on  hand. 

"  But  we  cannot  <ret  rid  of  them  if  no  one  calls  for  them/' 

o 

replied  the  latter. 

"  Hasn't  Littlewood  been  in  for  any?" 

"No,  he  has  not  been  here  for  ten  days." 

"  Ten  days,"  repeated  the  merchant  thoughtfully.  "  What 
has  become  of  the  boy  broker  ?  I  have  not  seen  him  here 
lately." 

"  The  boy  broker,"  said  the  bookkeeper,  taking  Herbert's 
card  from  a  drawer  to  find  his  address.  "  He  is  at  1 1 1  Nassau 
Street.  Shall  I  send  for  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  do  so,"  said  the  proprietor  as  he  walked  away. 

"  The  boy  broker,"  repeated  the  bookkeeper  to  himself, 
catching  at  his  employer's  words.  "  That  has  a  good  ring  to 
it  and  would  sound  well  on  young  Randolph's  cards." 

Having  a  pen  in  his  hand  he  dipped  it  in  red  ink  and 
printed  diagonally  across  Herbert's  card  the  words  THE  BOY 
BROKER.  "That  looks  well,"  said  he  to  himself,  holding  it  off 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  229 

and  eying  it  critically.  "  It  is  catchy.  I  will  suggest  to  young- 
Randolph  that  he  acids  it  to  his  cards  and  prints  it  in  red  ink 
as  I  have  done.  There's  nothing  like  advertising,"  he  went  on, 
talking  to  himself.  "  It  pays,  and  this  will  pay  Randolph — I 
know  it  will." 

The  suggestion  was  accordingly  made  to  Herbert  and  he 
adopted  it,  having  his  cards  printed  precisely  as  the  one  the 
bookkeeper  had  shown  him. 

And  this  is  the  way  he  became  known  as  THE  BOY  BROKER. 
The  name  proved  "  catchy,"  as  the  bookkeeper  had  predicted, 
and  after  adopting  it  Herbert  found  his  business  growing  more 
rapidly  than  ever.  But  just  now  a  most  unexpected  bit  of  good 
luck  came  to  the  young  Vermonter  and  at  a  time  too  when  he 
felt  sorely  the  need  of  money.  The  cause  brought  by  Mr. 
Goldwin's  lawyer  against  Christopher  Gunwagner  for  false  im 
prisonment  of  Herbert  Randolph  had  come  up  for  trial. 
Herbert  and  Bob  were  summoned  to  court  to  testify  against 
the  old  fence. 

The  trial  was  ably  conducted  on  both  sides,  but  the  fact 
that  young  Randolph  had  been  restrained  from  his  liberty  by 
one  Christopher  Gunwagner,  a  notorious  fence,  was  quickly 
established.  It  only  remained  then  for  the  jury  to  find  the 
damages. 

Herbert  had  sued  for  one  thousand  dollars,  and  his  lawyer 
made  an  able  argument  to  recover  the  full  amount. 

i^> 

He  dwelt  at  length  upon  our  hero's  sufferings  in  that  damp, 
musty  cellar,  infested  as  it  was  by  rats  to  such  a  desfree  as  to 

J  J  O 

threaten  his  reason  ;  all  of  which  was  only  too  true.  Graphic 
ally  did  the  lawyer  picture  this  scene,  so  graphically  that  the 
hearts  of  the  jurymen  were  noticeably  touched. 

Then  the  lawyer  argued  that  outside  and  beyond  the  actual 


23o  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

injury  suffered,  there  should  be  an  exemplary  damage 
awarded.  The  worst  traits  of  the  old  fence  were  shown  up, 
and  contrasted  with  the  spotless  character  of  Herbert  Ran 
dolph. 

The  judge  in  his  charge  sustained  the  idea  of  exemplary 
damage,  and  then  the  case  went  to  the  jury. 

They  had  remained  out  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour, 
when  they  came  in  and  announced  a  verdict  in  favor  of  Her 
bert  Randolph  of  Jive  hundred  and  seventy  five  dollars  ! 

Young  Randolph  was  never  more  surprised  in  his  life,  or 
only  once  ;  and  that  was  when  he  found  Bob  Hunter  at  old 
Gunwagner's  on  the  night  of  his  escape. 

"  Five  hundred  and  seventy  five  dollars!"  said  he  to  him 
self,  unable  to  realize  that  he  had  been  awarded  such  a  sum 
of  money. 

Bob   Hunter  congratulated  him,  his  lawyer  congratulated 

O  J  O 

him,  and  the  court  even  did  likewise. 

But  none  were  more  hearty  and  genuine  in  their  congratu 
lations  than  Mr.  Goldwin  and  his  pretty  daughter  Ray. 

"  I  owe  it  all  to  you,  Mr.  Goldwin,"  said  Herbert,  gratefully. 
"  I  should  never  have  thought  to  commence  action  against  old 
Gunwagner  but  for  your  advice." 

The  odd  seventy  five  dollars  paid  the  lawyer  and  all  the 
court  expenses.  This  left  a  clear  five  hundred  dollars  for  young 
Randolph — -what  a  lot  of  money,  five  hundred  dollars  in  new, 
crisp  bank  notes  ! 

"  And  it  shall  all  go  into  our  business,  Bob,"  said  he, 
proudly,  "  and  as  you  are  now  an  equal  partner  with  me  half 
of  the  money  will  be  yours." 

"  Oh,  no,  Herbert,  that  would  not  be  right,"  protested 
Bob. 


THE  BO  Y  BROKER.  23 1 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  it  would,"  replied  The  Boy  Broker.  "  My 
being  imprisoned  was  due  to  no  effort  of  my  own,  but  rather 
to  my  simplicity,  my  lack  of  keenness.  My  release,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  due  to  your  brave  efforts  to  rescue  me.  I 
walked  into  the  trap  unconsciously,  you  walked  into  it  with 
your  eyes  open,  risking  your  very  life  to  save  me.  To  you 
therefore  the  greater  reward  is  due — you  earned  your  portion, 
I  helplessly  endured  the  misery  that  has  brought  me  mine." 

"  But  I  did  not  suffer  any  and  you  did,"  returned  Bob,  feel 
ing  keenly  his  helplessness  when  in  an  argument  with  young 
Randolph. 

"  You,  however,  took  the  chances  of  suffering,  and  those  who 
take  LTfeat  chances  in  business,  in  war  and  in  dangerous  enter- 

o  o 

prises,  of  whatever  character,  if  successful  are  well  rewarded  for 
the  part  they  have  borne.  No,  Bob,  I  would  not  think  of 
keeping  all  this  money,"  continued  Herbert,  impressively.  "We 
are  partners  in  business  together.  Let  us  start  with  equal  in 
terest,  then  we  should  feel  no  jealousy  toward  each  other.  This 
five  hundred  dollars  will  enable  us  to  do  five  times  the  busi 
ness  we  are  now  doing,  and  if  we  save  the  profits  we  make  we 
can  still  further  increase  it  month  by  month." 

"  Do  you  remember,  Herbert,"  said  Bob,  with  grateful  ex 
pression,  "  that  when  Mr.  Goldwin  failed  and  you  were  thrown 
out  of  work  I  urged  you  to  take  some  money — only  eight  dol 
lars — and  you  refused  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  remember  it  well,  Bob,"  replied  young  Randolph. 

"  And  now  you  ask  me  to  take  two  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars  from  you.  Why  should  I  not  refuse  your  offer  as  you  re 
fused  mine  ?" 

"  Bob,"  said  Herbert,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  "that  eiVht 

d  J  o 

dollars  was  a  reserve  fund,  it  was  all  that  stood  between  you 


2;  2 


THE  BOY  BROKER, 


and  me  and  starvation  or  what  is  almost  as  bad — public  charity. 
I  appreciated  as  you  little  knew  your  generous  offer,  and  it  cut 
me  to  see  how  hurt  you  felt  at  my  refusal  to  take  the  money. 
But  I  thought  of  the  possibility  of  sickness  or  accident,  and  re 
alized  how  much  help  those  few  dollars  would  prove  in  such  a 
time.  Again  I  felt  that  the  money  would  do  me  no  good.  I 
know  now  that  it  would  not  have,  for  I  should  simply  have  used 
it  up  and  would  then  have  been  no  nearer,  if  so  near,  solving 
the  problem  that  pressed  me  for  an  answer — namely,  how  to 
earn  sufficient  means  with  which  to  buy  bread  and  procure  a 
shelter  for  myself." 

"  I  think  you  were  right,  Herbert,"  replied  Bob,  thought 
fully.  "  I  couldn't  think  so  then,  however,  but  it  is  plain  to  me 
now." 

"  I  know  I  was  right.  It  was  the  suffering  I  went  through 
in  those  dreary  winter  months  and  the  miserable  drudgery  I 
was  forced  to  perform  that  at  last  crave  me  a  knowledge  of  this 

1  £3  ZD 

business.  It  was  an  education  to  me,  Bob,  of  a  most  practical 
character,  and  now  that  it  is  all  over  I  can  only  feel  glad  that 
I  was  forced  out  of  my  comfortable  clerkship  into  the  cold 
wintry  street  that  had  so  sunny  an  ending." 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE   CONSPIRATORS'   FATE. 

A  FEW  weeks  after  the  trial   of   Gumvagner  for  false  im 
prisonment  he  was  again  brought  before  the  bar  of  jus 
tice  to  answer  with  Felix  Mortimer  to  the  charge  of  conspiring 
to  kidnap   Herbert    Randolph.      Able  counsel   were  employed 
bv  the  old  villain,  and  a  hard  fiorit  was   made  for  liberty.      But 

*•  £5  ^ 

the  charges  were  so  well  sustained  by  the  evidence  of  Herbert 
and  Bob,  and  that  of  the  small  boy  who  aided  the  latter  in 
gaining  admittance  to  the  fence's  den,  that  the  jury  brought  in 
a  verdict  of  guilty. 

Gunwagner  was,  accordingly,  sentenced  to  serve  a  long  term 
of  imprisonment  at  Sing  Sing  as  a  penalty  for  his  villainous 
acts.  He  had  accumulated  much  money  by  crooked  means, 
and  now  towards  the  end  of  his  life  his  own  freedom  was  the 
price  paid  for  the  gold  which  now  was  valueless  to  him. 

Then  came  Felix  Mortimer's  turn.  But  for  him  Herbert 
Randolph  would  never  have  fallen  into  the  trouble  that  seemed 
to  await  him  on  his  arrival  in  New  York.  Young  Mortimer, 
however,  overreached  himself.  He  was  not  a  match  for  Her 
bert  Randolph  and  Bob  Hunter  together — neither  he  nor  all 
of  his  disreputable  cronies. 

His  plans  miscarried  wofully.  and  now,  after  many  long 
weary  days  of  confinement  in  the  Tombs,  he  found  himself  sen- 


234 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


tencecl  to  the    House   of  Correction  for  nearly  four  years,   or 
until  he  reached  the  age  of  his  majority. 

Felix  Mortimer  was  splendidly   endowed  by   nature  for  a 
brilliant  man.      He  had  great  ability,  and  was  unusually  bright 

a  n  cl  prepossess 
ing.  But  unfor 
tunately  for  him, 
and  for  the  com 
munity  in  which 
he  lived,  he  com 
menced  life  in  the 
wrong  way.  He 
failed  to  recognize 
the  fact  that  no 
true  success  can 
be  attained  except 
by  operating  on 
the  solid  principles 
of  truth  and  hon 
esty.  His  envy 
of  Herbert  Ran 
dolph  had  at  last 
brought  him  dis 
grace  and  humili 
ation,  while  the  young  Vermonter  now  had  a  well  paying  and 
fast  growing  business  of  his  own.  How  bitterly  he  must  have 
regretted  his  own  foolish  and  evil  acts,  when  he  realized  fully 
to  what  they  had  brought  him  ! 

He  could  look  now  upon  Herbert  Randolph  and  say  to  him 
self,  truthfully,  "  I  had  the  ability  to  succeed  as  well  as  you  have 
and  to  be  as  much  respected  as  you  now  are.  My  advantages, 


GUNWAGNER    IN    PRISON. 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


235 


too,  were  superior  to  yours,  and  yet  here  am  I  a  prisoner  in 
the  House  of  Correction,  deprived  of  my  liberty  and  in  dis 
grace,  while  you  have  already  entered  upon  a  splendid  business 
career.  And  all  this  difference  conies  from  my  having  made  a 


wrong  start. 


Alas  !  how  many  human  wrecks  scattered  all  along  the  path 
way  of  life  could  say  the  same  thing,  as  they  compare  their 
present  wretched  condition  with  that  of  the  prosperous  and 
honored  citizens — the  solid  men  of  the  community — who  were 
once  their  schoolfellows,  and  whose  early  career  was  perhaps 
less  promising  than  their  own.  And  all  this  difference,  or  nearly 
all,  has  grown  naturally  out  of  the  right  or  wrong  start  they 
took  in  life. 

Peter  Smartweed  alone  among  the  conspirators  remains  to 
be  accounted  for,  and  this  is  something  that  the  police  could 
not  do.  They  made  a  careful  search  throughout  the  city  for 
him,  but  his  presence  could  not  be  discovered.  It  was  believed 
that,  fearing  arrest,  he  had  suddenly  left  his  home  and  the  city 
in  which  he  had  spent  his  life,  when  he  learned  of  the  fate  of 
Felix  Mortimer,  his  companion  in  crime. 


2 16  THE  BO  Y  BROKER. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

A    GLIMPSE    AT    THE    FUTURE. 

TT  has  not  seemed  to  me  desirable  to  dwell  upon  Mr.  Gold- 
win's  business  affairs — to  show  the  legal  squabbles  that 
followed  his  failure,  or  to  picture  in  detail  the  trickery  of  Break- 
well  &  Co.  My  aim  has  been  to  introduce  only  what  bore  di 
rectly  upon  the  career  of  Herbert  Randolph.  I  will  say,  how 
ever,  that  the  banker's  failure  did  not  leave  him  penniless,  as 
young  Randolph  feared  it  might.  He  was  badly  crippled  at 
first,  but  certain  securities  turned  over  to  him  by  Breakwell  & 
Co.,  which  at  the  time  of  the  failure  possessed  but  little  market 
value,  began  at  the  end  of  a  few  months  to  advance  rapidly. 
When  they  had  reached  a  point  at  which  it  seemed  to  him  ad 
visable  to  sell  he  closed  them  out  at  a  price  that  enabled  him 
to  pay  off  all  his  obligations  without  drawing  upon  his  personal 
property  for  a  penny.  He  was,  therefore,  still  a  wealthy  man, 
and  was  not  forced  to  reduce  his  style  of  living  in  the  slightest 
degree. 

With  this  simple  statement  I  leave  the  past  to  record  a 
conversation  in  which  the  reader  will  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
future,  in  so  far  as  it  relates  to  some  of  those  who  have  been 
most  conspicuous  in  this  story. 

Young  Randolph  had  now  become  a  frequent  visitor  at  Mr. 
Goldwin's  home,  where,  notwithstanding  the  many  attractions 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  237 

of  a  great  city,  he  spent  the  happiest  hours  of  his  life.  Bob 
Hunter,  moreover,  was  not  an  entire  stranger  at  this  handsome 
residence.  His  visits,  though,  were  few  in  comparison  to  those 
of  his  partner,  and  this  was  due  to  two  causes — first,  a  decided 
reluctance  to  leave  his  books,  for  he  had  become  a  most  indus 
trious  student,  and  second,  the  lack  of  so  delightful  an  attrac- 

<_> 

tion  as  that  which  turned  the  steps  of  the  young  Vermonter 
so  often  towards  the  Goldwin  home. 

It  was  now  midwinter.  Herbert  and  Bob  had  been  in  busi 
ness  together  nearly  nine  months,  in  which  time  they  had  by 
hard  work  and  splendid  ability  lifted  themselves  from  poverty 
and  drudgery  to  a  position  of  prosperity.  In  an  up  town  sav 
ings  bank  a  snug  sum  of  money  was  deposited  to  their  credit, 
and  this  was  in  excess  of  the  amount  used  in  their  business, 
which  had  become  so  large  that  a  good  working  capital  was 
necessary. 

One  day  they  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Goldwin  inviting 
them  to  dine  with  him  and  his  family  on  the  following  evening. 
The  letter  stated,  moreover,  that  he  wished  to  talk  with  them 
about  a  matter  in  which  he  thought  they  would  feel  an  in 
terest. 

"  What  can  he  wish  to  talk  over  with  us?"  said  Bob. 

"  I  have  been  speculating  on  that  same  point,"  replied 
Herbert. 

"And  you  came  to  no  conclusion  ?  " 

<:  No,  I  really  cannot  imagine  his  purpose." 

"  It  may  be  about  business,"  suggested  the  junior  partner. 

"  You  may  be  right,  Bob,  but  it  hardly  seems  probable  that 
he  would  want  to  talk  with  us  about  business." 

"  But  you  say  he  has  often  talked  with  you  about  it  when 
you  have  been  at  his  house." 


238  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  So  he  has,  in  a  general  way,"  replied  Herbert,  "but  I 
supposed  that  was  just  to  fill  in  conversation." 

"  A  mere  matter  of  curiosity  to  know  how  we  were  doing  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  It's  possible,  though,  that  he  had  other  objects  in  view." 

"  Possible,  well,  yes  ;  but  not  probable." 

Thus  the  boys  speculated  upon  Mr.  Goldwin's  purpose,  as 
they  went  about  their  work — speculated  and  wondered  till  they 
found  themselves  at  his  table,  where  all  thought  of  this  char 
acter  was  driven  from  their  minds  by  the  pleasant  conver 
sation  that  followed. 

It  was  only  fifteen  months  before  this  that  two  boys  met  as 
if  by  chance  in  City  Hall  Park  one  brisk  October  morning- 
one  a  country  lad  fresh  from  the  rocky  hills  of  old  Vermont, 
the  other  a  keen  eyed,  bright  faced  newsboy  of  New  York. 
Look  at  the  group  around  this  table,  and  tell  me  if  you  can  see 
these  chance  acquaintances— the  boy  whose  every  act  pro 
claimed  him  a  farmer's  son,  or  the  other — the  shabbily  dressed 
product  of  a  metropolitan  street.  And  if  perchance  by  voice 
or  feature  you  recognize  the  boy  of  education  and  ambition, 
look  again,  I  urge  you,  that  you  may  find  his  friend.  "  There 
is  but  one  boy  present  beside  him  of  the  farm,"  I  hear  you 
say,  "and  surely  it  cannot  be  he,  so  well  dressed  and  grown  so 
tall,  whose  language  bespeaks  a  well  bred  lad."  But  look  yet 
once  more,  I  pray  you,  and  behold  the  sparkle  of  his  eyes,  the 
old  time  humor  playing  over  his  features,  and — ah  !  now  he 
laughs  and  shows  his  dimples  once  again — the  same  on  either 
cheek  reflecting  the  merriment  he  feels.  You  yield  at  last, 
puzzled  though  I  know  you  are,  and  the  question  you  would 
put  to  me — "How came  it  so,  this  marvelous  change  in  these 
two  boys  ?"  I  will  answer — THEY  WORKED  AND  STUDIED. 


BOB    HUNTER,    THE   STUDENT    AND    YOUNG    BUSINESS    MAN. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  241 

When  dinner  was  over  Mr.  Goldwin  and  the  two  boys  re 
paired  to  the  library.  After  a  little  preliminary  talk  the  former 
said, 

"  I  am  contemplating  going  into  business  again." 

"  Your  old  business?"   asked  Herbert. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin,  rather  deliberately,  resting 
comfortably  in  his  easy  chair  and  toying  with  his  eye  glasses. 
"  I  am  better  fitted  for  that  than  any  other.  But  my  object  is 
not  wholly  to  make  money,  though  of  course  there  is  always 
pleasure  in  doing  so.  My  purpose  is  rather  to  provide  myself 
with  some  light  employment  that  would  interest  me,  but  which 
would  not  be  too  severe  a  tax  upon  my  strength.  I  have  also 
a  secondary  object  in  this  connection,"  he  continued,  addressing 
Herbert,  "  and  that  is  a  desire  to  put  you  and  Bob  in  the  way 
of  entering  a  first  class  brokerage  business  much  sooner  than 

Zj  O 

you  could  hope  to  if  left  to  your  own  efforts.  I  have  watched 
both  of  you  carefully  and  with  the  keenest  interest.  The  ability 
you  have  each  shown  in  conducting  your  stamp  brokerage  con 
vinces  me  that  you  are  capable  of  moving  up  higher,  and  there 
fore  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  offer  you  an  interest  in  the  business 
that  I  am  about  to  start." 

"  But  the  money  ! "  exclaimed  both  boys,  speaking  at  once 
and  almost  doubting  their  own  senses,  yet  expressing  in  their 
looks  thanks  more  eloquent  than  words  could  have  conveyed. 

"  The  money  question  can  be  arranged  all  right,"  replied 
Mr.  Goldwin.  "  I  can  supply  the  necessary  sum  in  excess  of 
your  capital." 

"  I  can  hardly  realize  such  an  opportunity  as  open  to  us," 
said  Herbert,  adding  words  of  warmest  thanks. 

"  Neither  can  I,"  remarked  Bob,  no  less  expressive  in  his 
gratitude  to  Mr.  Goldwin. 


242  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Doubtless  it  is  a  surprise  to  you,"  replied  the  latter  ;  "  but 
the  idea  has  been  growing  with  me  for  several  months,  and 
now  I  am  ready  to  make  you  this  proposition.  You  of  course 
know  that  you  are  not  old  enough  to  become  legal  partners. 
It  will  therefore  be  necessary  to  conduct  the  business  under 
my  own  name,  and  as  this  was  my  old  business  name  it  will 
be  better  than  a  new  one." 

"  We  certainly  shall  not  object  to  that,"  said  Herbert  ; 
"  but  how  can  we  become  members  of  the  firm  if  not  legal 
partners  ?  " 

"  You  can  become  practically  members,  though  not  real 
members,"  returned  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  That  is  to  say  you  can 
draw  a  certain  percentage  of  the  profits  in  return  for  your 
capital  and  services.  My  proposition  then  is  this  :  I  will  open 
an  office  and  take  both  of  you  boys  in  with  me,  allowing  you 
one  half  of  the  profits  until  you  become  of  age  ;  then  we  will 
organize  a  partnership,  and  each  own  a  third  of  the  business. 
By  that  time  your  profits,  if  you  do  not  spend  too  much  money, 
will  enable  you  to  own  your  interests  clear  of  all  incumbrance. 
Your  present  brokerage  business  can  be  clone  from  our  office, 
and  that  I  shall  want  Bob  to  attend  to  at  first,  while  you,  Her 
bert,  I  shall  expect  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  burden  in  our 
regular  business.  Your  experience  with  me  before  my  failure 
taught  you  what  is  to  be  clone.  We  will  commence  in  a  small 
way  at  first,  and  I  shall  not  do  very  much  work  myself.  I  will 
of  course  keep  an  eye  on  everything,  and  may  bring  many  of 
my  old  customers  back  to  us.  Now  you  have  heard  my  pro 
position,"  continued  Mr.  Goldwin,  "  how  do  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  possibly  like  anything  better,"  replied  Her 
bert,  "  but  it  seems  too  good  to  be  true — more  like  an  air  cas 
tle  than  a  fact." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  243 

"  So  it  seems  to  me,"  added  Bob. 

"  But  it  is  a  fact,"  laughed  Mr.  Goldwin,  enjoying  the  sur 
prise  of  the  two  young  partners,  "  and  I  am  ready  to  start  the 
ball  rolling  at  once." 

"  We  will  certainly  accept  the  proposition,  then,"  said  Her 
bert,  speaking  for  himself  and  Bob  ;  "  which  is,  as  I  understand, 
that  you  are  to  draw  one  half  of  the  profits,  and  that  Bob  and 
I  will  each  get  one  quarter  ? " 

"  Yes,  that  is  correct,  up  to  the  time  you  both  become  of 
age,"  replied  Mr.  Golclwin. 

"After  that  we  are  to  become  equal  partners  ?"  said  Bob. 

"Yes,  and  of  course  each  draw  one  third  of  the  profits,"  re 
turned  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  Whenever  our  new  business,"  he  con 
tinued,  "  becomes  large  enough  to  demand  Bob's  full  time,  I 
should  advise  selling  the  stamp  department.  Until  then,  how 
ever,  we  will  hold  it,  as  it  pays  a  handsome  little  income  which 
will  swell  our  first  year's  profits  considerably." 

"  Are  you  not  ready  for  our  game  of  chess,  Mr.  Randolph  ?" 
said  Ray  Goldwin,  appearing  in  the  library  door. 

"  That  depends  upon  your  father's  wishes,"  answered  Her 
bert,  all  too  anxious  to  join  her. 

"What  say  you,  papa?"  appealed  Ray. 

"  Your  wishes  are  law  with  me,  my  dear,"  said  the  father, 
with  a  happy  smile.  "  Go,  Herbert,  and  win  if  you  can." 

"  But  the  business,"  suggested  young  Randolph,  as  he 
quickly  joined  Ray  in  the  doorway. 

"Ah,  never  mind  that  now  ;  the  game  will  suit  you  better, 
and  besides  Bob  and  I  can  arrange  the  few  details  yet  to  be 
talked  over." 

THE    END. 


^Y^HOSE  who  have  enjoyed  reading  THE  BOY  BROKER  would 
probably  find  MR.  MUNSEY'S  "  AFLOAT  IN  A  GREAT 
CITY"  equally  interesting.     It  covers   388  pages — large,  clear 
type,  and  is  handsomely  printed  and  bound.     It  can  be  had  front 
your  book  store  or  from  the  publishers,  by  mail.     Price  $1.25. 
FRANK  A.    MUNSEY  &   Co.,  PUBLISHERS, 

8 1   Warren  Street,  New  York. 


From  the  New  York  Daily  Sun. 

"Afloat  in  a  Great  City1'  recounts  the  strange  adventures  on  land  and  sea  of  a  kidnaped 
boy.     The  moral  of  the  story  is  sound. 
From  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  Afloat  in  a  Great  City  "  is  an  excellent  book  for  boys.  *  *  *  It  is  well  and  simply  told, 
and  cannot  fail  to  interest  those  for  whom  it  was  written. 
From  tlie  Brooklyn  Standard-Union. 

"  Afloat  in  a  Great  City"  is  a  stirring;  story  of  the  life  of  a  boy  cast  upon  his  own  resources 
in  New  York.     His  adventures  are  told  with  much  spirit,  and  are  worth  the  telling. 
From  the  Boston  Beacon. 

"  Afloat  in  a  Great  City  "  seems  healthy  and  pleasant  reading  for  a  boy  who  does  not  care 
particularly  about  being  a  pirate  or  a  cowboy,  but  likes  to  have  his  blood  gently  stirred. 
From  the  Cliicago  Times. 

The  material  is  cleverly  worked  up,  and,  although  the  general  drift  of  the  tale  is  obvious  to 
the  experienced  novel  reader  before  he  has  gone  very  far,  the  author  still  has  in  store  for  him  some 
interesting  surprises  of  detail. 
From  the  New  York  Daily  Graphic. 

"  Afloat  in  a  Great  City  "  recites  the  history  and  thrilling  adventures  of  a  brave  lad  whose 
earliest  recollections  of  life  find  him  an  orphaned  waif  in  the  streets  of  New  York.  He  has  the 
right  sort  of  blood  and  grit  in  him.  *  *  *  *  It  is  a  strong,  wholesome  and  dramatic  bit  of 
fiction.  There  are  no  wearisome  homilies  in  it,  yet  everywhere  it  incites  to  truthfulness  and 
manliness.  It  is  well  and  copiously  illustrated. 
From  the  Evening  Telegram,  Neiv  York. 

It  is  not  specifically  stated  upon  the  title  page  that  this  is  a  book  for  boys,  but  it  is  evident 
from  subject  and  treatment  that  it  is  intended  to  be  so.  There  has  been  a  great  variety  in  the 
stories  published  for  a  clientele  o{  this  nature,  and  the  space  left  for  evolution  between  "  Sandford 
and  Merton  "  and  "  Tom  Brown's  School  Days  "  is  very  wide  indeed.  It  has  been  well  traversed 
and  greatly  improved  upon.  Mr.  Munsey,  author  of  "  Afloat  in  a  Great  City,"  understands  that 
boys  like  to  read  of  adventure,  whether  it  takes  place  upon  the  high  seas  or  in  the  heart  of  Africa, 
or  whether  it  is  limited  by  the  boundaries  of  the  American  metropolis.  He  has  chosen  to  condense 
a  good  many  strange  and  unusual  incidents  as  happening  to  a  good  and  stout  hearted  though  poor 
boy  within  the  circumference  of  New  York  City.  Mr.  Munsey  is  a  healthy  expert  at  this  sort  of 
business.  He  does  not  work  upon  morbid  sympathies,  or  seek  to  become  interesting  by  appealing 
to  emotions  which  had  better  be  left  in  the  background  so  far  as  the  class  for  whom  he  writes  is 
concerned. 


